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Bethany   Mission  Sabbath   School, 

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NO  .. 


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Return  this  Book  promptly  in  one 
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\ 


GIFT  OF 
Prof.    C.    A.    Kof  o  id 


THE  LAST  PENACOOK 


A  TALE   OF   PROVINCIAL  TIMES 


BY 

ABEL    B.    BERRY 


BOSTON 
D.   LOTHROPAND   COMPANY 

FRANKLIN   AND    HAWLEY   STREETS 


COPYRIGHT,  1887, 
BY 


Iff- }  .ffy  *<•*•  0 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

CHAPTER  I. 
STRANGE  VISITORS        ....  7 

CHAPTER   II. 

INTERFERENCE  OF  NEIGHBORS       .        .  15 

CHAPTER   III. 
THE  REMOVAL 23 

CHAPTER   IV. 
JIM 39 

CHAPTER  V. 
To  ESCAPE  TROUBLE     ....          44 

CHAPTER  VI. 
SAFETY  IN  THE  WILDERNESS        .        .          51 

CHAPTER  VII. 
ARRIVAL  OF  THE  HOUSEHOLD       .        .          57 


MH11798 


IV  CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
THE  BOY  HUNTERS       ....          63 

CHAPTER   IX. 
CLOSING  WINTER  DAYS         ...          68 

CHAPTER   X. 
THE  INDIAN  CATAMOUNT      ...          77 

CHAPTER   XL 
ANOTHER  STRANGER  AT  THE  CABIN     .          84 

CHAPTER   XII. 
THE  AFFAIRS  OF  THE  PROVINCE  .        .         100 

CHAPTER   XIII. 
IN  THE  CABIN        .        .        .        .        .         107 

CHAPTER   XIV. 
THE  GOVERNOR'S  PARTY       .        .        .         114 

CHAPTER   XV. 

ALMOST  A  CALAMITY    .        .        .        .        121 

CHAPTER   XVI. 
A  PLOT  FOR  REVENGE          .        .        .         131 


CONTENTS.  V 

PAGE. 

CHAPTER    XVII. 
THE  ARREST 142 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
THE  SEARCH 151 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
THE  DISCOVERY 165 

CHAPTER  XX. 
THE  TRIAL   ......        173 


THE    LAST   PENACOOK. 


CHAPTER   I. 

STRANGE    VISITORS. 

SOMEWHERE  on  the  coast  of  New  Jersey, 
during  the  early  part  of  the  last  half  of 
the  last  century,  there  stood  a  little  rude  hut,  so 
near  the  surf-beaten  shore,  that  it  was  often 
drenched,  when  storms  were  abroad,  with  the 
salt  spray  of  the  dashing  waves. 

The  location  of  the  little  dwelling  was  a  pecu- 
liar one.  It  stood  at  the  head  of  a  little  bay, 
across  the  entrance  of  which,  except  on  one  side, 
was  a  low  reef  of  rocks,  but  high  enough  not  to 
be  wholly  covered  at  flood  tide,  unless  at  times 
when  the  tide  was  very  high.  A  sandy  and 
gravel  beach  a  few  feet  high  rises  up  from  the 
water's  edge  at  high  tide,  and  upon  this  stood 
the  little  cabin,  its  door,  when  open,  command- 

7 


;  £TRA'NGE     VISITORS. 


ing  a  view  of  the  open  sea.  A  few  rods  back  of 
the  cabin  rose  low,  sandy,  and  mostly  barren 
hills  or  dunes.  The  place  altogether  had  a  bar- 
ren, desolate  and  unpropitious  aspect.  The  won- 
der was,  that  any  human  being  should  select  such 
a  spot  for  habitation. 

The  cabin  itself  seemed  made  mostly  of  drift- 
wood and  poles,  and  yet  was  devoid  wholly  of  the 
appearance  of  squalor  and  degradation,  usually 
observable  around  places  of  poverty  and  want. 
The  inmates  of  this  humble  dwelling  were  a  man 
about  thirty  years  old,  and  his  wife,  somewhat 
younger,  and  one  child,  a  feeble,  puny  little  boy 
four  or  five  years  of  age,  who  required  the  most 
assiduous  care  to  keep  alive  in  his  feeble  frame 
the  flickering  flame  of  life.  The  father  was  a 
mild-tempered  man,  tall,  slender,  and  slightly 
round-shouldered.  His  light  hair  and  rather 
fair  complexion  gave  him  almost  a  youthful  look. 
The  light  of  his  clear  blue  eye  showed  that  he 
was  not  of  that  hopeless,  shiftless,  worthless 
class  known  as  poor  whites  of  a  later  genera- 
tion, and  the  wonder  would  arise  at  once,  why  , 
was  he  content  to  dwell  in  this  forlorn  and  deso- 
late place  ? 


STRANGE    VISITORS.  9 

. 

Though  it  might  have  no  attraction  to  many, 
and  would  seem  even  repulsive  to  most,  the 
place  had  its  charms  for  Than  (contraction  for 
Nathan  or  Nathaniel)  Clifford,  who  may  be  said 
to  have  been  of  an  amphibious  nature,  procuring 
a  livelihood  from  both  sea  and  land.  His  wife 
was  a  tidy  little  body,  whose  life  seemed  bound 
up  in  that  of  her  child,  whom  she  watched  and 
cared  for,  with  apparently  sleepless  anxiety. 

It  would  seem  that  their  location  must,  of  ne- 
cessity, cut  them  off  from  all  communication 
with  the  rest  of  the  world ;  but  about  two  miles 
inland  was  a  small  settlement,  mostly  tillers  of 
the  soil,  of  which  both  the  inmates  of  the  cot- 
tage were  natives.  Nor  were  they  in  other  re- 
spects wholly  beyond  the  reach  of  intercourse 
with  a  certain  class  of  the  rest  of  the  world. 

Almost  in  the  rear  of  their  cabin,  and  quite 
near  to  it,  was  a  copious  spring  of  most  excellent 
water,  from  which  flowed  a  little  stream  to  min- 
gle with  the  great  ocean  of  waters  —  like  the  infant 
whose  life  goes  out,  after  a  brief  existence  here, 
to  mingle  with  the  spirit  of  the  Eternal  and  the 
Infinite. 

Both  the  little  bay  and  the  spring  of  water 


10  STRANGE    VISITORS. 

were  known  to  the  coasters  that  traded  between 
the  Northern  and  Southern  provinces,  for  the 
Independent  United  States,  as  a  nation,  was  a 
thing  then,  yet  to  be.  Stress  of  weather,  or 
want  of  fresh  water,  occasionally  caused  a  coaster 
to  put  in  at  what  they  had  named  Cold  Spring 
Cove.  To  those  on  board,  a  string  of  perch 
or  pickerel  from  a  large  pond  half  a  mile  from 
the  cabin,  or  a  few  wild  ducks,  or  other  water 
fowl,  were  always  acceptable,  and  for  which  they 
paid  liberally,  as  is  characteristic  of  sailors. 

It  was  his  love  of  the  life  of  a  hunter,  or  gun- 
ner and  fisher,  that  had  induced  Than  Clifford 
to  select  this  as  the  place  of  his  residence.  He 
had  erected  the  hut,  and  spent  several  years  here 
alone,  before  he  took  a  wife  to  share  with  him 
the  blessings  of  his  home.  They  lived  a  simple, 
happy  life,  in  their  way,  and  were  content  with 
their  lot,  which  is  a  great  factor  in  the  make- 
up of  human  happiness.  And  here  they  seemed 
destined  to  live  their  allotted  time  on  earth,  and 
would  have  done  so,  doubtless,  but  for  an  event 
that  occurred  one  summer  night  as  they  watched 
over  their  feeble  and  suffering  child. 

It  was  a  clear,  bright,  calm  moonlight  night ; 


STRANGE    VISITORS.  II 

scarcely  a  breath  of  air  was  perceptible,  and,  ex- 
cept the  low  moan  of  the  little  sufferer,  no  sound 
was  heard  save  the  sigh  of  the  old  ocean  as  its 
light  waves  rippled  and  sighed  on  the  sandy 
beach. 

The  only  light  that  the  cabin  afforded  was 
from  a  pitch-pine  knot  that  blazed  brightly,  fas- 
tened to  a  hook  suspended  on  the  crane  in  the 
deep  fireplace  of  the  rude  stone  chimney.  It 
was  past  midnight,  and  the  child  which  had  from 
sunset  tossed  restlessly  with  a  burning  fever,  be- 
gan to  beg  piteously  for  water,  —  cold  water. 

"  O  mamma  !  water,  —  cold  water  ;  do  give 
me  water!" 

Thus  he  had  called  on  mamma  or  papa,  when 
at  last  the  kind-hearted  father  said,  "  He  shall 
have  some  water.*' 

"  Folks  say  cold  water  is  drefful  bad  in  fevers/' 
replied  the  little  wife  sadly  and  doubtfully. 

"  The  little  fellow  can't  live,  and  he  shall  have 
what  he  wants  now,"  said  the  father,  as  he  seized 
the  gourd-shell  dipper,  and,  hurrying  to  the 
spring,  soon  returned  it  brimming  with  the  cov- 
eted beverage.  Gently  raising  the  frail  little 
boy,  he  seized  the  dipper  with  both  hands,  and 


12  STRANGE    VISITORS. 

nearly  swallowed  its  contents  before  he  could' 
be  restrained.  The  terrified  parents  expected 
to  see  the  child  breathe  his  last  from  the  fatal 
effects  of  the  heavy  draught  of  cold  water,  but 
instead,  his  restlessness  abated  and  he  fell  into 
a  quiet  sleep. 

While  they  remained  watching  in  almost 
breathless  silence,  the  sound  of  the  measured 
dip  of  oars  was  heard  from  the  deep,  then  the 
low  murmur  of  voices,  followed  very  soon  by 
the  grate  of  the  keel  or  prow  of  a  boat  upon  the 
gravelly  shore.  Footsteps  approached,  and  a 
man  in  the  garb  of  a  sailor,  with  a  slightly  foreign 
accent,  spoke  to  them  from  the  open  door : 

"  Our  vessel  has  been  wrecked  at  sea,  and  we 
have  a  young  child  whose  friends  are  in  another 
boat.  We  have  seen  your  light,  and  have  come 
to  leave  the  child  for  a  few  days,  when  its  friends 
will  come  for  it." 

"  Ye're  welcome  tu ;  and  if  'twant  for  our 
sick  little  boy,  we'd  make  room  for  ye  all," 
said  Than. 

"  If  we  get  shelter  for  the  child  we  can  take 
care  of  ourselves,"  returned  the  stranger. 

Thereupon  a  young  woman  of  comely  appear- 


STRANGE    VISITORS.  13 

ance,  but  evidently  of  partly  African  lineage,  en- 
tered, bearing  a  child  asleep  in  her  arms,  which 
she  laid  upon  the  bed  in  the  room,  and,  as  she 
did  so,  burst  into  tears  as  she  hung  a  moment 
over  her  sleeping  charge. 

"Come  along,"  said  the  stranger  harshly,  as 
he  stood  outside  the  door. 

"  Dear  child,"  sobbed  the  young  woman, 
"your  mother's  an  angel,  and  will  watch  over 
you,  now,"  and,  turning,  left  the  cabin.  Just  then 
two  men  set  a  trunk  or  chest  inside  the  door,  and 
without  further  words  the  strangers  returned  to 
their  boat  and  pushed  off. 

Than  and  his  wife,  for  a  moment  forgetful  of 
their  sick  boy,  stood  listening  in  silence  till 
every  sound  died  away  on  the  deep.  They 
then  turned  to  look  upon  the  face  of  the  little 
stranger,  and  as  Debby  turned  back  the  light 
silken  veil,  she  exclaimed : 

"  As  white  as  a  lily  !  and  du  see  !  what  a  picter 
it  is.  I  was  afeered  'twas  a  color'd  baby." 

"  Tears  ter  me  them  was  queer  sort  o'  folks," 
said  Than.  "  They  said  their  ship'd  been  cast 
away,  but  there  hain't  been  no  storm  for  more'n 
a  month  that  would  wreck  a  skiff  at  sea." 


14  STRANGE     VISITORS. 

"  Ye  know/'  said  his  wife,  "  they  said  some- 
body'd  come  for  the  child.  It's  a  little  girl.'' 

"Wai,  p'raps  they  will,"  said  Than.  Then 
turning  to  their  own  sick  boy,  they  grew  alarmed 
for  fear  he  was  dead,  his  breathing  was  so  soft 
and  low,  but  they  soon  became  convinced  of 
their  mistake,  for  he  was  in  a  profuse  perspira- 
tion. 


CHAPTER  II. 

INTERFERENCE  OF  NEIGHBORS. 

ALL  in  the  little  cabin  by  the  sea  slept 
soundly  long  after  the  sun  was  up,  but 
a  heavy  mist  had  settled  down  over  sea  and 
shore,  shutting  out  its  bright  beams.  When 
she  awoke,  the  stranger  girl  who  was  little,  if 
any,  more  than  a  year  and  a  half  or  two  years 
old,  started  up  and  looked  with  alarm  on  the 
strange  faces  around  her,  and  the  place  in  which 
she  found  herself,  and  began  to  cry  and  call  for 
"Tay,"  "Tay!" 

The  strange  voice  awoke  the  sick  boy,  who, 
to  the  surprise  of  his  parents,  rose  and  sat  up 
on  his  tiny  couch  or  bed.  The  little  stranger 
seeing  him,  stopped  crying  and  looked  pleased, 
and  the  kindly  voice  and  manner  of  the  hunter's 
wife  soon  allayed  all  fears  on  the  part  of  the 
little  girl. 

She  was  in  her  night  clothes  when  brought  to 
the  cabin.  Everything  about  her,  and  her 
'5 


1 6       INTERFERENCE  OF  NEIGHBORS. 

clothes,  of  which  there  were  many  changes 
in  the  chest  left  with  her,  were  of  rich  and 
beautiful  material,  but  no  name  appeared  on 
anything  except  a  little  cap,  which  had  the  name 
Winifred,  curiously  wrought  with  dark  silken 
hair,  upon  the  inside. 

When  the  child  had  exchanged  her  night 
dress  for  the  clothes  which  it  was  evident  she 
had  worn  the  day  before,  as  they  lay  upon  the 
top  of  the  contents  of  the  chest,  she  went  at 
once  to  the  bed  on  which  the  sick  boy  lay. 
He  had  sat  up  but  a  few  moments  after  be- 
ing aroused  by  the  voice  of  the  little  stranger, 
but  it  was  evident  that  the  fever  had  left  him, 
and  his  happy  father  and  mother  looked  upon 
him  almost  as  alive  from  the  dead.  The  little 
boy,  whose  name  was  Caleb,  put  out  his  small 
thin  white  hand,  and  the  little  girl  took  it  in 
both  hers,  with  a  happy  look  on  her  sweet  face. 

"Poor  baby  sick,"  said  she. 

"The  darlin'!"  ejaculated  the  cotter's  wife, 
who  already  loved  the  little  stranger. 

"She  is  a  picter,  sartin,"  returned  her  hus- 
band in  an  undertone.  "  What  du  ye  s'pose  is 
become  of  her  father  and  mother  ?  " 


INTERFERENCE  OF  NEIGHBORS.        I/ 

"  Everything  seems  mysterious.  Them  men 
last  night  acted  strange,  and  that  air  color'd 
woman  most  of  all  on  'em/'  she  replied. 

"  S'posen  nobody  should  never  come  arter  the 
child  ? " 

"  We  won't  think  'bout  that  yit,  Than  ;  but  if 
the  Lord  has  sent  her  tu  us,  He'll  provide  a  way 
for  us  to  take  keer  on  'er." 

"That's  sartin,  Debby." 

Days  came  and  went,  and  weeks  glided  into 
months,  and  the  little  waif  from  the  mysterious 
deep  was  still  a  dweller  unclaimed  in  the  hunter 
and  fisher's  cabin.  From  the  morning  after  her 
advent  the  puny,  sickly  Caleb  had  slowly  im- 
proved, and,  during  the  warm  and  pleasant 
weather,  the  two  children  were  constantly  to- 
gether, amusing  themselves  with  the  shells  and 
bright  pebbles  along  the  sea-shore. 

At  first,  Caleb  was  almost  as  weak  as  infancy, 
and  it  was  amusing  and  interesting  to  see  how 
his  little  companion  cared  for  and  assisted  him. 
She  would  throw  her  little  arms  around  him,  to 
help  him  get  up,  and  when  he  sat  down  she 
would  often  take  his  hand  in  her  lap  and  prattle 
and  talk  to  him  in  her  pretty  baby  way. 


1 8       INTERFERENCE  OF  NEIGHBORS. 

But  he  rapidly  improved,  and  as  the  cooler  and 
more  bracing  weather  of  early  autumn  came  on, 
he  outgrew  the  strength  of  his  little  companion, 
and  in  turn  was  often  able  to  help  and  comfort 
her. 

The  cup  of  happiness  at  the  cabin  would  seem 
to  have  been  full,  but  that  their  friends  and  ac- 
quaintances in  the  neighboring  settlement  began 
to  interfere,  and  proposed  to  manage  their  affairs 
for  them.  They  insisted  that  it  was  not  right 
that  they  should  care  for  and  bring  up  one 
who  might  be  the  chance  offspring  of  some  law- 
less rovers  of  the  deep,  and  who,  when  she  should 
be  grown  to  years  approaching  womanhood,  and 
be  able  to  be  of  some  service  to  them,  would 
snatch  her  away  without  so  much  as  a  "thank 
you/'  for  their  trouble. 

Notwithstanding  Than  and  Debby  put  aside  all 
thought  of  such  a  result,  and  declared  they  loved 
Winifred  as  dearly  as  though  she  were  their  own, 
the  more  worldly-wise  determined  to  act  a  wiser 
part  for  them,  and  remove  the  child  to  some  pub- 
lic charitable  institution  to  be  cared  for. 

When  the  cotter  and  his  wife  became  aware 
of  this  they  were  greatly  distressed.  They  would 


INTERFERENCE  OF  NEIGHBORS.        IQ 

scarcely  have  felt  worse  had  the  purpose  been  to 
take  Caleb  from  them. 

The  middle  of  September  drew  on,  and  the 
time  of  that  event,  dreaded  by  coasters,  known 
as  "the  line-storm,"  was  at  hand.  Capt.  Dow 
of  Portsmouth  was  then  making  a  run  from  that 
place  to  Charleston  in  the  Carolinas,  hoping  to 
get  safely  back  to  port  before  the  anticipated 
storm  should  occur.  He  had  been  to  Charles- 
ton, and  was  on  his  way  back,  and  in  the  vicinity 
of  Cold  Spring  Cove,  the  location  of  which  he 
was  well  aware,  when,  as  night  drew  on,  the  sky 
blackened,  and  a  regular  "  Northeaster  "  set  in. 
All  the  canvas  that  it  was  safe  to  sail  under, 
was  pressed  into  service,  to  enable  the  vessel  to 
reach  the  "Cove."  The  desired  haven  was  at 
last  made  in  safety,  and  the  coaster  anchored 
where  it  could  ride  out  the  toughest  blow  with- 
out fear  of  damage. 

While  bargaining  with  Than  for  his  fresh  fish 
and  wild  fowls,  to  supply  his  crew,  for  the  storm 
continued  several  days,  Capt.  Dow  asked  him 
why  he  stayed  in  that  barren  and  desolate  place. 

"  There's  nowhere  else  I  can  go  tu,"  said 
Than. 


2O       INTERFERENCE  OF  NEIGHBORS. 

"  No  place,  man  !  why,  the  world  is  large,  and 
you  can't  find  another  place  on  it  so  forlorn  and 
forsaken  as  this  is.  Anywhere  is  better  than  to 
stay  and  spend  your  days  here.  For  the  sake  of 
those  two  bright  children  of  yours,  you  ought  to 
go  where  you  can  give  them  a  chance  to  live  and 
see  the  world,"  Capt.  Dow  told  him. 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  could  get  a  livin'  anywhere 
else,"  replied  Than. 

"  Get  a  living !  bless  your  soul,  you  have 
hands,  and  an  able  body.  Get  aboard  of  my 
coaster,  The  Betty,  and  let  me  take  you  up  to 
Portsmouth,  and  I'll  warrant  you'll  find  getting 
a  living  easy  enough.  There  ain't  men  enough 
there  to  do  the  work  that's  wanted.  Just  say 
the  word,  and  as  soon  as  the  storm  abates,  we'll 
take  you  aboard." 

That  night  Than  and  his  wife  talked  the  mat- 
ter over  together. 

"  The  Bible  says  the  Lord  will  take  keer  on 
us  if  we  du  our  duty,  and  trust  in  Him,"  said 
Debby. 

"  Duse  it  say  so  ?  "  asked  Than. 

"  Yis,  it  duse ;  and  now,  what  had  we  oughter 
tu  du  ?  This  here  little  darlin'  was  sent  tu  us  by 


INTERFERENCE  OF  NEIGHBORS.       21 

Him,  and  has  she  been  any  burden  tu  us  sense 
she's  been  with  us  ?  " 

"No.  Burden?  no;  she's  jest  been  a  little 
blessid  darlin'  tu  us,  and  I  bleeve  Caleb 
wouldn't  'uv  been  half's  well's  he  is  now,  if 
'twan't  for  dear  little  Winnie.'* 

"  Jest  so  I  think.  Then  if  the  Lord  sent  her 
tu  us  we'd  oughter  tu  take  keer  on  her,"  con- 
tinued Debby. 

"That's  jest  so." 

"  And  now  the  Lord  has  sent  tu  us  the  way  tu 
keep  her,  and  p'raps  He  wants  us  tu  go  way  from 
here.  And,  Than,  though  we  are  happy  here 
now,  would  Caleb  and  Winnie  be  happy  if  they 
growed  up  here  ?  " 

"Wai,  Cap'n  Dow  says  this  ere  is  no  place  for 
a  man  tu  live,  and  I  s'pose  'tain't ;  so  we'll  jest 
take  his  'dvice,  and  go  'way  with  him." 

The  sky  was  clear  the  next  morning,  and 
though  the  breast  of  old  ocean  heaved  and 
moaned,  the  gentle  west  wind  was  rapidly  sooth- 
ing and  calming  its  commotion.  During  their 
three  days'  imprisonment  at  Cold  Spring  Cove, 
by  the  storm,  Capt.  Dow  and  the  crew  of 
The  Betty  had  become  attached  to  the  house- 


22       INTERFERENCE  OF  NEIGHBORS. 

hold  of  Than  and  Debby :  the  two  children 
had  become  especial  favorites. 

Debby  had  managed  to  get  garments  adapted 
to  their  condition,  for  Winnie,  for  she  said  she 
didn't  want  strangers  to  know  but  she  was  her 
own  child  ;  and  as  Debby  was  herself  fair  and 
comely,  no  one  would  remark  upon  the  beauty 
of  the  little  girl. 

It  was  the  early  part  of  June  when  Winnie  was 
left  at  the  Cove,  and  it  was  now  past  the  middle 
of  September,  and  no  one  had  come  to  claim 
her;  so  Than  and  Debby  concluded  that  she 
had  been  left  there  to  be  abandoned  by  those 
who  had  brought  her  to  this  out-of-the-way 
place. 

Lest  any  one  at  the  settlement  should  think 
foul  play  had  been  practised  upon  the  household 
at  the  Cove,  Capt.  Dow  left  chalked  upon  the 
wall  over  the  fireplace,  — 

Gone  to  Portsmouth,  N.  Hampshire,  on 
Board  The  Betty, 

Z.  Dow,  Captain. 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE    REMOVAL. 

^  ¥  ^HE  stir  and  bustle  of  a  commercial  town 
X  like  Portsmouth,  even  at  that  day,  was  a 
new  experience  to  Than  and  Debby,  and,  for  a 
time,  they  grew  homesick,  and  sighed  for  the 
quiet  of  their  humble  cot  at  Cold  Spring  Cove. 

Capt.  Dow  had  been  pretty  busy  on  his  arri- 
val at  the  wharf,  and,  in  a  measure,  forgot  the 
hunter  and  his  household.  So,  after  a  while, 
Than  forsook  The  Betty  and  wandered  into  the 
town,  leaving  Debby  and  the  children  on  board. 
He  had  not  gone  far  when  he  espied  what  ap- 
peared to  be  an  unoccupied  place  of  shelter  at  a 
little  distance  in  the  rear  of  a  mansion  house, 
to  which  he  went,  to  learn  if  he  might  be  allowed 
to  take  possession  of  the  small  building  that 
seemed  to  belong  to  the  premises,  and  found 
the  mansion  house  tenantless  also. 

Almost  bewildered  with  the  stir  and  evident 
energy  and  activity  of  everybody  and  everything 
23 


24  THE    REMOVAL. 

around  him,  he  returned  to  The  Betty  just  as 
Capt.  Dow  was  making  inquiry  for  him. 

"Oh!  here  you  are,"  said  the  burly,  good-na- 
tured and  kind-hearted  captain.  "Well,  you 
have  been  taking  a  look  at  the  town  ?  It's  a  lit- 
tle different  from  Cold  Spring  Cove,  eh?" 

"Yis;  but  I  most  wish  I  was  back  there," 
said  Than  despondingly. 

"Oh!  you'll  feel  different  after  you've  been 
here  a  few  days.  We  must  find  you  a  house, 
the  first  thing." 

"I  seen  a  house  up  here  a  piece  —  not  a  great 
way  from  a  great  house  —  and  there  hain't  no- 
body in  neether  on  'em." 

"That's  the  Longridge  place." 

Just  then  a  man  of  distinguished  appearance 
approached  Capt.  Dow,  and,  addressing  him  re- 
spectfully, ^inquired  after  the  success  of  his  late 
voyage,  then  inquired  concerning  a  certain  mat- 
ter of  business  in  which  he  seemed  interested  in 
Charleston  in  the  Carolinas. 

"Yes,  Governor,"  replied  Capt.  Dow,  "the 
matter  is  prospering,  and  will  prove  successful." 

The  Governor  (for  it  was  none  other  than  Gov- 
ernor John  Wentworth  the  younger)  expressed 


THE    REMOVAL.  25 

himself  well  satisfied,  and  was  turning  away  when 
Capt.  Dow  said  : 

"Gov.  Wentworth,  do  you  think  there  would 
be  any  objection  for  a  poor,  but  honest  family,  to 
occupy  the  gardener's  lodge  at  the  Longridge 
place?" 

"Not  the  slightest ;  for  my  part,  I  think  it  will 
be  well  for  the  tenement  to  be  occupied,  and  so 
have  somebody  on  the  premises  till  the  owner 
returns." 

"This  is  the  family,"  pointing  to  Than,  his 
wife,  and  the  two  children  near. 

"No  matter  if  they  are  poor,  if  they  are,  as 
you  say,  honest.  They  can't  be  very  poor  with 
two  such  beautiful  children,"  said  the  Governor, 
as  he  looked  with  admiration  upon  the  face  of 
Winnie.  He  was  childless,  though  a  lover  and 
the  friend  of  children. 

"But  that  little  boy  looks  puny  and  sickly," 
continued  the  Governor,  "and  needs  a  home. 
Get  them  up  there,  Captain,  and  I  will  send  my 
servant  up  with  something  to  make  them  com- 
fortable. I  shall  need  a  man  to  work  for  me  in 
place  of  the  one  who  died  a  few  days  ago,  and 
perhaps  this  man  will  make  his  place  good." 


26  THE    REMOVAL. 

"I  dare  say  he  will,"  said  Capt.  Dow. 

Than  and  his  household  had  little  occasion  to 
regret  their  exchange  of  the  Cove  for  Ports- 
mouth.  Of  course  everything  was  new,  and 
strange  to  them,  at  first,  but  they  had  not  been 
long  there  when  Debby,  who  was  of  a  devout 
and  trustful  spirit,  reminded  Than  of  the  prom- 
ise in  the  Bible,  that  the  Lord  would  provide  for 
all  who  did  right,  or  what  they  thought  to  be  so, 
and  trust  in  Him,  and  how  it  was  verified  in  their 
case. 

Than  could  not  read  himself,  and  received  from 
his  wife  all  he  knew  of  the  sacred  volume.  She 
was  extremely  limited  in  the  extent  of  her  lit- 
erary attainments,  and  really  had  but  one  book, 
which  was  the  Bible,  but  this,  like  the  material 
sun  of  the  universe,  that  gives  light  to  all  the 
other  bodies,  enlightens  all  other  books,  even 
those  which  seek  to  eclipse  or  hide  it.  Of  late 
Debby  had  found  more  than  usual  comfort  in  its 
pages,  and,  though  limited  in  knowledge  and 
refinement,  she  became  insensibly  improved  and, 
in  a  measure,  cultured,  by  acquaintance  with  its 
pages. 

It  is  surprising  how  greatly  the  circumstances 


THE    REMOVAL.  2/ 

and  condition  of  things  around  us  affect  our 
characters  and  influence  our  motives  and  pur- 
poses. The  careless,  easy,  improvident  Than  of 
Cold  Spring  Cove  became,  in  the  midst  of  enter- 
prise and  activity,  another  man.  The  stir  and 
commotion  of  trade  and  improvements  soon  be- 
came agreeable  to  him,  and  caused  his  blood  to 
circulate  with  more  energy  and  force. 

Two  or  three  years  or  more  pass  and  Than  be- 
comes aware  that  the  estate  on  which  is  the  ten- 
ement he  occupies,  is  claimed  by  several  parties, 
because  of  the  death  of  its  former  owner.  Among 
them  is  a  man  whom  he  soon  learns  is  very  much 
disliked  by  the  people  of  the  town,  owing  to 
some  base  transaction  in  which  he  was  suspected 
of  being  concerned  several  years  before.  The 
feeling  of  the  public  had  run  so  high  against  him 
that  he  had  been  obliged  to  leave  the  town,  and 
not  till  very  recently  had  returned  to  it.  It  had 
become  pretty  generally  understood  that,  as  the 
nearest  of  kin  to  the  former  owner,  Mr.  Long- 
ridge,  who  had  died  abroad,  or  been  lost  at  sea, 
he  would  come  into  possession  of  the  property. 

His  name  was  Humphrey  Dugan,  but  owing  to 
the  transaction  of  which  he  was  suspected  and 


28  THE    REMOVAL. 

accused  of,  he  was  called  Kidnaper  Dugan,  or 
simply  The  Kidnaper.  It  was  four  or  five  years 
after  Than  took  possession  of  the  gardener's 
lodge  on  the  premises,  that  Dugan  obtained  the 
judgment  of  the  court  in  his  favor  as  the  right- 
ful possessor  of  the  property. 

He  was  a  dark-browed,  bullet-headed,  sinister- 
looking  man.  Every  one  in  Portsmouth  would 
have  preferred  that  any  other  man  should  have 
succeeded  to  the  property  of  Mr.  Longridge,  who 
was  a  most  worthy  and  excellent  person.  It  was 
hoped  that  at  least  Dugan  had  somewhat  im- 
proved with  years,  but  it  soon  became  evident 
that  the  Ethiopian  had  not  changed  his  skin,  or 
the  leopard  his  spots. 

For  some  reason,  he  had  taken  offence  at 
Than,  and  a  few  days  after  taking  possession  of 
the  premises,  he  came,  with  his  servant,  who  was 
"like  master,  like  man,"  and  without  a  moment's 
warning  turned  the  family  out  doors,  and,  in  no 
very  careful  manner,  tumbled  the  few  effects  of 
the  household  out  after  them,  and  nailed  up  the 
door. 

Than  was  away  at  the  time,  being  still  in  the 
employ  of  Gov.  Wentworth,  by  whom  he  was 


THE    REMOVAL.  29 

regarded  with  much  favor.  This  was  probably 
the  cause  of  Dugan's  spiteful  treatment  of  Than's 
family,  for  Gov.  Wentworth  had  been  bitterly 
opposed  to  Dugan's  getting  possession  of  the 
property,  as  he  and  Mr.  Longridge  had  been 
warm  friends. 

Gov.  Wentworth  was  a  man  of  very  great 
enterprise,  and  not  only  encouraged  others  in 
manufactures,  and  especially  in  agriculture,  but 
engaged  extensively  in  both  himself.  He  had 
bought  an  estate  on  the  shore  of  the  Winnipe- 
sockee  Lake,  in  the  town  of  Wolfborough,  then 
considered,  as  it  really  was,  far  in  the  interior, 
and  here  he  built  an  elegant  and  stately  man- 
sion, and  in  every  way  improved  the  premises 
around  it.  His  dwelling  in  Portsmouth  was  a 
pattern  of  taste  and  elegance. 

His  manufacturing  operations  were  mostly  con- 
fined to  converting  the  forests  into  lumber,  large 
quantities  of  which  were  shipped  to  England. 
The  forests  on  the  Piscataqua  and  its  branches, 
which,  from  the  main  river,  spread  out  into  the 
country  in  almost  every  direction,  abounded  in 
the  finest  timber  trees,  especially  of  white  pine, 
to  be  found  anywhere  in  the  world.  And  on  all 


3O  THE    REMOVAL. 

the  branches  of  the  river  were  mills  in  active 
operation  converting  them  into  lumber,  or  were 
taken  for  the  navies  of  the  old  world. 

Gov.  Wentworth  had  an  interest  in  the  mills 
on  the  Lamprey  River,  and  had  already  intimated 
to  Than  that  he  wanted  him  to  go  up  there. 

Though  slight  of  frame,  Than  had  shown  him- 
self possessed  of  uncommon  strength  and  activ- 
ity, which  the  Governor  had  told  him  ought  to 
be  employed  in  some  more  important  pursuit 
than  that  of  a  mere  servant.  This  sudden  break- 
ing up  of  his  household  gave  a  good  opportunity 
to  make  the  change.  The  conservative  nature 
and  disposition  of  Than  led  him  to  dislike  any 
change  of  place,  or  business,  and  unless  driven 
into  it,  as  he  had  been  at  leaving  the  Cove,  on 
the  Southern  Coast,  he  would  never  have  done 
so.  But  Debby  quite  favored  the  plan.  Per- 
haps she  dreaded  living  in  the  vicinity  of  The 
Kidnaper,  for  she  had  conceived  a  great  horror 
of  him,  and  Winnie,  when  he  came  to  put  the 
family  from  the  house,  actually  screamed  with 
terror  at  sight  of  him. 

When  Than  spoke  to  his  wife  about  going  up 
to  Lamprey  River,  as  the  thriving  manufacturing 


THE    REMOVAL.  3! 

village  of  New  Market  was  then,  and  long  after- 
ward called,  she  at  once  favored  the  plan. 

"Ye  know,"  said  she,  "we  dreaded  to  leave 
our  hut  in  the  Cove,  but  the  Lord  opened  the 
way  for  us,  and  would  ye  be  willin'  now  tu  go 
back  there  as  we  was  then  ?  " 

"  No,  Debby,  no.  'Twas  a  great  mercy  that 
sent  us  away  from  there." 

"  Yis,  Than,  so  it  was ;  and  it  is  the  same  Hand 
that  is  in  our  breakin'  up  here.  Let  us  trust  in 
the  Lord,  and  be  led  of  Him.  Ye  know  we 
have  found  Him  faithful  in  all  His  promises." 

"  We  will  go,"  said  Than.  "  A  gundalow  is 
goin'  up  to-morrow  mornin',  and  the  Governor 
says  it  can  take  our  things,  and  us  tu,  right  up 
there;  and  there's  a  house  all  ready  for  us." 

Gundalow  was  the  provincial,  doubtless,  for 
gondola,  but  the  real  gundalow  was  an  equally 
clumsy  craft,  as  gundalow  is  more  clumsy  and 
harsh  in  sound  than  gondola. 

The  gundalow  is  a  huge,  nearly  flat-bottomed 
boat,  or  scow,  capable  of  carrying  immense 
loads  of  lumber,  or  merchandise,  up  or  down  the 
river  where  there  is  little  or  no  current  to  op- 
pose it.  On  the  Piscataqua  and  its  branches, 


32  THE    REMOVAL. 

there  are  currents  both  up  and  down  the  river, 
in  each  twenty-four  hours,  owing  to  the  ocean 
tides  with  which  they  are  favored  at  the  falls  at 
the  head  of  tide-water.  These  huge,  slow-mov- 
ing gundalows  carry  merchandise  inland,  and 
bring  the  products  of  the  interior  to  the  sea- 
board. 

Two  or  three  men  are  usually  employed  to 
man  them,  the  principal  or  head  one  of  whom  is 
called  the  skipper.  Early  in  the  morning  Than 
and  his  family  were  taken  to  the  wharf  and 
shipped  on  board  a  gundalow  for  Lamprey 
River,  to  be  employed  in  the  mills  in  wrhich 
Gov.  Wentworth  and  others  at  Portsmouth, 
were  interested. 

It  was  a  bright,  warm  day  in  springtime,  and 
the  voyage,  though  slow,  was  a  pleasant  one,  as 
it  was  through  attractive  scenes  that  varied  at 
every  turn.  The  crew  consisted  of  the  skipper, 
two  men,  and  a  boy,  though  the  latter  was  of 
little  account,  but  proved  an  amusing  com- 
panion to  the  two  children,  Caleb  and  Winnie. 

The  skipper,  whose  name  was  Langley,  was  a 
huge,  round-shouldered,  blear-eyed,  and  yet  a 
good-natured  man.  Of  the  other  two  men,  one 


THE    REMOVAL.  33 

was  a  mulatto,  also  large  and  muscular,  with  a 
sad  face,  and  grizzled  hair,  apparently  fifty  or 
sixty  years  of  age,  and  the  boy  was  his  son,  but 
several  shades  lighter;  his  mother  having  been 
nearly  or  quite  white.  Of  the  remaining  man 
little  need  be  said,  only  that  he  was  of  the  ordi- 
nary type  of  river  men  of  that  day.  The  colored 
man  went  by  the  name  of  Uncle  Zeeb.  The  crew 
were  well  matched,  and  the  utmost  harmony 
prevailed  among  them. 

Skipper  Langley  was  a  man  of  few  words,  and 
seemed  often  to  defer  to  the  judgment  of  Uncle 
Zeeb,  in  case  of  matters  of  doubt,  and  Nicholas 
Torr,  which  was  the  name  of  the  other  man,  or 
Nick  Torr,  for  short,  was  the  youngest  of  the 
crew,  who  was  a  patient  and  faithful  hand,  never 
shirking  or  grumbling  at  the  work  to  be  done. 

The  boy,  whose  name  was  James,  or  Jim,  was 
a  funny  fellow,  about  a  dozen  years  old.  He 
was  no  help  on  the  gundalow,  of  any  account, 
and  his  father  kept  him  there  to  keep  him  out 
of  mischief  elsewhere.  Trapping  and  fishing 
and  scurrying  round  generally  were  more  to  his 
liking  when  left  to  himself. 

Uncle  Zeeb  had  known  better,  or  rather  hap- 


34  THE    REMOVAL. 

pier  days.  Some  ten  or  a  dozen  years  before, 
he  was  living  in  Portsmouth,  in  a  comfortable 
home  with  his  family  —  a  wife  and  a  very  comely 
daughter,  fifteen  or  sixteen  years  of  age,  and 
Jim,  who  was  then  but  a  year  or  two  old.  One 
evening,  while  Uncle  Zeeb  was  away,  two  men 
came  to  the  door  and  inquired  for  him.  Lute, 
the  daughter,  went  to  answer  the  call,  and  was 
immediately  seized.  She  screamed,  when  her 
mouth  was  instantly  muffled,  and  she  was  borne 
off  struggling  ineffectually  to  free  herself  or  call 
for  help. 

An  alarm  was  at  once  raised  and  an  effort  made 
to  rescue  the  girl,  but  her  abductors  succeeded 
in  hurrying  her  into  a  boat  that  was  hastily 
rowed  off  to  a  Spanish  brigantine  that  had  put 
into  port  there  a  few  days  before.  As  soon  as 
Lute  was  taken  on  board,  the  brigantine  weighed 
anchor  and  put  to  sea,  and  that  was  the  last  that 
had  ever  been  seen  or  heard  of  the  girl.  Her 
mother  survived  the  shock  but  a  short  time,  and 
the  happy  home  of  Uncle  Zeeb  was  thus  ruth- 
lessly broken  up  forever. 

There  was  but  one  man  on  whom  suspicion 
fell  as  being  concerned  in  the  foul  deed,  and 


THE    REMOVAL.  35 

that  was  Humphrey  Dugan,  who  was  known  to 
be  the  distant  relative  of  one  of  Portsmouth's 
most  respected  citizens,  Jonathan  Longridge. 
He  was  a  gentleman  engaged  mostly  in  trade 
with  the  West  Indies,  and  the  owner  of  a  large 
fortune. 

On  account  of  his  wife's  health  he  had  left 
home  to  spend  a  winter  with  her  in  Cuba,  and 
to  look  after  his  commercial  interests  there, 
and  in  other  of  the  Islands.  During  the  absence 
his  wife  gave  birth  to  a  child,  and  their  stay  was 
thus  prolonged  to  more  than  double  the  time 
they  anticipated  being  absent. 

The  last  tidings  received  from  him  was,  that 
his  wife  had  died,  and  that  with  his  child  and  its 
nurse  he  should  shortly  sail  for  home.  Months 
and  even  years  had  passed  and  no  tidings  could 
be  gathered  of  him,  only  that  he  had  embarked 
for  home  on  a  vessel  that  was  never  after 
heard  from.  It  was  thus  that  Dugan,  the  hated 
and  despised  Kidnaper,  as  all  believed  him  to  be, 
became  possessed  of  the  Longridge  estate.  Per- 
haps the  testimony  against  him  was  not  suffi- 
cient fully  to  convict  him  of  the  crime,  but 
nobody  doubted  his  guilt,  and  he  knew  it. 


36  THE    REMOVAL. 

There  were  those  who  went  so  far  as  to  surmise 
that  he  had  a  hand  in  the  fate  of  Mr.  Longridge. 

If  he  had  sufficient  means  of  communication 
with  a  piratical  craft  such  as  had  borne  off  the 
beautiful  and  attractive  Lute,  why  not  connive 
with  the  same  for  the  destruction  of  the  vessel 
on  which  Mr.  Longridge  had  taken  passage  for 
homeland  thus  gain  possession  of  his  wealth? 
This,  of  course,  was  all  suspicion,  but  there  were 
many  who  believed  him  wicked  enough  to  ac- 
complish it. 

On  the  way  up  to  Lamprey  River,  a  very 
pleasant  companionship  was  soon  established 
between  Jim  and  the  two  children. 

As  they  were  making  their  way  slowly  through 
Great  Bay,  a  beautiful  body  of  water  when  the 
tide  is  in,  and  which  was  now  the  current  that 
bore  them  inland,  Jim,  having  hooks  and  lines 
for  fishing,  greatly  interested  Caleb.  He  was 
still  a  pale,  puny  boy,  but  much  better  in  health 
than  his  condition  once  gave  promise  of  his 
being.  Then,  in  one  way  and  another,  he  made 
friends  with  Winnie,  and,  by  tricks  and  perform- 
ances at  which  he  was  very  apt,  he  overcame  her 
shyness. 


THE  REMOVAL.  37 

As  the  gundalow  rounded  the  point  to  pass 
from  Great  Bay  into  the  Lamprey  River,  it  came 
very  near  to  the  land.  Something  there  at- 
tracted Jim's  attention,  and  with  the  agility  of  a 
cat,  or  panther,  he  sprang  from  the  gundalow 
and  scampered  off  into  the  woods.  In  a  short 
time  he  re-appeared  standing  on  a  rock  near  the 
channel  of  the  river,  holding  something  in  his 
hands,  and  as  the  gundalow  came  alongside, 
brought  as  near  as  was  safe  by  the  good-natured 
skipper,  Jim  sprang  safely  on  board  and  pre- 
sented Winnie  with  a  wee  young  rabbit. 

She  was  afraid  of  it,  but  being  assured  he 
would  neither  bite  nor  scratch,  she  took  the 
harmless  little  animal  in  her  hands.  It  seemed 
alarmed  at  its  captivity  at  first,  but  in  a  short 
time  consented  to  feed  from  Winnie's  hand, 
greatly  to  her  delight  and  interest.  Jim  soon 
had  a  cage  and  all  necessary  arrangements  pro- 
vided for  the  little  prisoner,  to  the  great  satisfac- 
tion of  both  children. 

It  was  about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon 
when  the  gundalow  arrived  at  Lamprey  River, 
and  Jim  made  himself  very  serviceable  in  taking 
care  of  the  children,  and  in  various  other  ways 


38  THE    REMOVAL. 

while  Than  and  his  wife  were  setting  their  new 
quarters  in  order. 

That  night  Jim  slept,  as  usual,  on  the  gunda- 
low,  but  was  early  at  the  house  in  the  morning, 
to  take  the  children  out  and  show  them  around 
their  new  home.  When  asked  if  he  had  taken 
breakfast,  he  replied  that  he  had  had  some,  but 
could  eat  more  ;  and  so  was  invited  to  sit  at 
table  with  them.  He  had  been  well  brought  up, 
and  took  so  naturally  to  the  family  and  the  chil- 
dren, that  both  Than  and  his  wife  were  glad  to 
have  him  with  them,  for  a  time,  at  least  —  until 
Caleb  and  Winnie  began  to  feel  at  home  ;  and 
Uncle  Zeeb  was  willing  he  should  remain  there. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

JIM. 

LUMBERING  and  milling  proved  a  new 
business  for  Than,  and  for  a  time  he  was 
almost  homesick  again. 

"  'F  't  hadn't  been  for  that  'ere  horrid  Dugan, 
we  c'u'd  'a'  staid  in  Portsmouth,"  said  he. 

"And  if  't  hadn't  been  for  them  folks  in  the 
settlement  by  the  Cove,  we  might  'a'  staid  there 
till  this  time.  Du  ye  wish  we  had,  Than  ? "  said 
Debby. 

"  Du  I  wish  it,  Debby  ?     Ye  don't  mean  it." 

"Wai,  we  on'y  jest  follered  the  leadin'  of 
Providence  then,  and  wa'n't  it  harder  tu  come 
'way  from  the  Cove  than  'twas  to  come  here  ? " 

"Yis;  'nuff  sight." 

"Wall,  ye  see  it's  jest  's  much  the  leadin'  of 
Providence  that  brought  us  here  as  'twas  tu  take 
us  from  the  Cove  to  Portsmouth.  So  isn't  it 
better  to  be  thankful  than  tu  murmur?  " 

"  Yis,  Debby,  I  'spect  'tis  ;  but  a  body  can't 
39 


40  JIM. 

help  gettin'  discouraged,  sometimes,  at  bein' 
knocked  round  's  we  be,  ye  know/' 

Than,  while  in  the  employ  of  Gov.  Went- 
worth,  received  instruction  in  many  things  of 
which,  up  to  that  time,  he  was  altogether  igno- 
rant. 

Gov.  Wentworth,  as  already  stated,  was  an 
enthusiast  in  farming,  and  inspired  all  about  him 
with  a  portion  of  his  own  spirit. 

It.  was  the  planting  season,  and  land  was  fur- 
nished Than  for  everything  he  wished  to  plant 
or  sow.  And  here,  also,  Jim  was  found  of  great 
service,  and  it  was  a  matter  of  interest  to  see 
him,  who  had  been  accounted  a  lazy,  worthless 
lad,  destined  to  grow  up  in  idleness  and  va- 
grancy, sweating  and  toiling  to  the  utmost  of 
his  strength  in  the  service  of  those  to  whom  he 
had  become  so  strongly  attached. 

One  evening  Than  said  to  Debby,  "What  'f 
we  jest  let  Jim  live  with  us  ?  'Cause  he's  a  real 
help,  an'  as  he's  growin'  he'll  be  more  'n'  more 
help  tu  us." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  tu  have  him,  I'm  sure.  Caleb 
likes  tu  go  off  fishin'  and  huntin'  with  him  when 
he  ain't 't  work ;  and  I  can  see  he  grows  stronger." 


JIM.  41 

"Jim's  a  good  boy,  I  think;  but  everybody 
says  he's  lazy." 

"  Lazy  !  I  never  saw  a  boy  work  harder  'n  he 
does  when  there's  anything  he  can  du." 

"  Bymeby  he'll  be  big  'nuff  to  work  in  the  saw 
mill,  and  help  me  a  sight." 

"Wai,  I'll  fix  a  bed  for  him,  and  you  can  talk 
to  his  father  'bout  it." 

"  Oh  !  he'll  be  glad  to  hev  him  stay,  'cause  he 
told  me  so  when  I  seen  him  t'other  day." 

Jim  himself  was  delighted  with  the  arrange- 
ment. The  secret  of  the  change  that  had  come 
over  him  was,  that  he  had  somebody  to  take  an 
interest  in  him,  and  somebody  to  love.  He 
loved  the  whole  household,  and  the  children  with 
all  his  heart.  He  never  failed  to  bring  home 
something  for  Winnie,  when  he  and  Caleb  went 
hunting  or  fishing,  leaving  her  at  home.  And 
always  when  they  were  not  going  far,  he  wanted 
her  to  go  with  them,  and  she,  young  as  she  was, 
became  deeply  interested  in  their  forest  rambles. 

Though  slight  of  figure,  she  was  the  picture 
of  health,  but  Caleb  was  still  pale,  delicate 
and  frail  as  a  weed  grown  in  the  shade.  By 
degrees,  he  had  become  able  to  endure  almost 


42  JIM. 

without  fatigue,  long  rambles,  as  his  frame  was 
so  slight  he  had  little  to  carry.  His  limbs  were 
almost  as  slender  as  the  antelope's. 

After  Than  had  been  engaged  a  year  in  the 
business  at  Lamprey  River,  he  was  sent  to  take 
charge  of  the  new  mill  at  Piscassick  Falls,  already 
mentioned,  and  Uncle  Zeeb,  who  had  left  the  gun- 
dalow  and  lived  by  himself  in  a  little  hut  half-way 
between  Lamprey  River  and  the  new  mill,  was 
employed  to  assist  in  the  work.  He  had  a  large 
frame,  and  the  strength  almost  of  two  common 
men,  so  that  he  and  Than,  as  the  saying  is,  made 
a  "  whole  team." 

Probably  no  place  of  the  same  extent  in  New 
England,  furnished  a  finer  quantity  of  white  pine 
timber  than  grew  along  the  valley  of  this  small 
river  running  back  several  miles,  and  from  half  a 
mile  to  a  mile  wide. 

Very  many  of  the  largest  and  finest  of  the 
trees  had  been  culled  out  years  before  for  masts, 
in  the  royal  navy  of  England,  and  many  had 
been  sold  also  for  the  navies  of  Spain  and  Portu- 
gal. But  they  were  hardly  missed,  so  great  was 
the  multitude  that  towered  straight  up,  shaft- 
like,  toward  the  stars,  and  swayed  in  the  breeze 


JIM.  43 

and  moaned  as  the  tempest  swept  through  them. 

It  seemed  a  sacrilege  almost  to  sacrifice  trees 
like  these,  centuries  old,  and  still  unmarred  by 
age,  to  the  greed  of  trade  and  commerce,  but  in 
this  way  only  it  was  that  the  land  could  be  sub- 
dued and  brought  under  the  hand  of  cultivation 
—  a  cultivation,  alas !  which  has  well  nigh  re- 
duced its  soil  to  barrenness.  But  a  more  enlight- 
ened spirit  is  giving  rise  to  a  wiser  system  of 
agriculture,  and  the  time  may  come  that  lands 
now  sterile,  and  almost  worthless,  shall  become 
fat,  productive  and  valuable. 

The  lumber  manufactured  from  these  forests 
was  the  wonder  and  admiration  of  the  old  world 
to  which  it  was  mostly  carried. 


CHAPTER  V. 

TO   ESCAPE   TROUBLE. 

*TT  was  strange  that  Humphrey  Dugan  should 
X  seem  to  be  the  evil  genius  of  Than  as  well  as 
of  Uncle  Zeeb.  He  had  bitter  spite  against  Gov. 
Wentworth,  and  some  others  in  Portsmouth,  for 
having  tried  to  keep  him  from  getting  possession 
of  the  Longridge  estate,  and  sought  every  means 
in  his  power  to  injure  and  annoy  them. 

It  seems  that  at  one  time  Mr.  Longridge 
owned,  or  had  an  interest,  in  a  tract  of  land  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  Piscassick.  Gov.  Wentworth 
and  others  claimed  that  it  was  well  known  to 
everybody  interested  in  the  lumber  business, 
that  Mr.  Longridge  had  many  years  before  sold 
all  his  interest  in  the  timber.  But  this  gave  to 
Dugan  a  chance  to  make  trouble,  and  he  claimed 
a  part  of  the  lumber  at  the  mill  as  his  own,  and 
threatened  to  take  it.  Thereupon  Than  was 
charged  to  defend  it,  and  send  word  down  to 
Lamprey  River  for  help  if  Dugan,  or  any  one 
44 


TO    ESCAPE    TROUBLE.  45 

else,  should  attempt  to  take  any  away  without 
authority. 

Dugan  was  as  good  as  his  word,  and,  procuring 
a  gundalow,  engaged  teams  to  bring  the  lumber 
from  Piscassick  to  the  Landing  at  Lamprey  River. 
He  went  himself  with  them  and  found  only  Than, 
Uncle  Zeeb  and  the  boy  Jim  there.  Uncle  Zeeb 
he  had  occasion  to  know,  but  did  not  recognize 
in  Than  any  one  whom  he  had  met  before. 
When  Dugan  made  a  demonstration  upon  the 
lumber  Than  withstood  him. 

"  You  interfere  at  your  peril ;  stand  off,"  said 
Dugan. 

"  Ye  hain't  a-goin  to  touch  a  board  'o  this  lum- 
ber. You'll  find  this  a  different  job  from  turning 
women  and  children  out-doors,"  said  Than. 

"  Ah !  you're  that  beggar  I  pitched  off  my 
premises ;  get  out  of  my  way,  I  tell  you,"  said  he 
fiercely,  seizing  Than,  who  was  taller,  but  of  less 
weight  than  Dugan,  and  attempting  to  throw 
him  into  the  river.  Than  instantly  closed  in 
with  him,  and,  becoming  master,  gave  him  a  se- 
vere pounding.  Dugan's  head  was  beaten  as 
though  it  had  been  under  a  trip-hammer.  But 
it  was  all  so  quickly  done  that  no  one  could  in- 


46  TO    ESCAPE    TROUBLE. 

terfere  in  his  behalf ;  so,  bleeding  and  stunned, 
Dugan  was  borne  off  by  those  who  had  come  to 
take  possession  of  the  lumber. 

Jim  had  been  hurried  off  to  the  mills  at  Lam- 
prey River  for  help  to  defend  the  property,  but 
the  men  came  hurrying  to  the  scene  of  contest, 
only  to  find  the  war,  for  that  day,  was  over. 

It  is  often  said  that  a  mild-tempered  man  is 
one  to  be  feared  when  fully  aroused,  and  such 
Dugan  found  Than  to  be.  For  he  had  an  old 
score  of  his  own  to  settle ;  and  probably  the 
wrongs  to  Uncle  Zeeb  might  have  added  some- 
what to  the  energy  of  the  blows  that  fell  upon 
the  victim's  head. 

Than  was  at  once  a  hero  with  all  classes. 
But  Gov.  Wentworth,  and  a  few  others,  when 
informed  of  the  proceeding,  agreed  that  though 
Than  was  the  party  assailed,  he  could  not  be 
justified  in  dealing  so  harshly  with  his  aggressor. 
Any  magistrate  when  appealed  to  would  feel 
obliged  to  grant  a  process  for  his  arrest  and 
punishment.  Then,  the  fierce  and  revengeful 
temper  of  Dugan,  even  after  the  law  had  spent 
its  force  and  been  vindicated,  was  to  be  dreaded. 

Under  these  considerations  the  question  arose, 


TO    ESCAPE    TROUBLE.  47 

What  could  be  done  for  Than?  whom  nobody 
blamed,  but  everybody  extolled  for  what  he  had 
done  —  Gov.  Wentworth  and  his  associates  with 
the  rest. 

These  latter  gentlemen  were  determined  that 
some  plan  should  be  devised  to  save  him  from 
the  vengeance  of  Dugan,  and  even  such  punish- 
ment as  the  law  might  deem  proper. 

Theodore  Atkinson,  a  coadjutor  of  Gov.  Went- 
worth's,  was  one  of  the  purchasers  of  the  old 
Captain  John  Mason  claim  to  the  territory  of 
New  Hampshire,  which,  from  generation  to  gen- 
eration before,  had  disturbed  the  peace  and  the 
prosperity  of  the  province  by  persistent  litiga- 
tion on  the  part  of  those  interested  in  it.  All 
the  territory  back  of  the  incorporated  towns, 
the  most  advanced  of  which  were  Kingston, 
Nottingham,  Deerfield,  Epsom,  Northwood,  Bar- 
rington  and  Rochester  was  open  to  settlers,  and 
even  much  in  the  old  towns  was  in  the  same 
condition,  and,  claimed  by  the  heirs  of  the  origi- 
nal proprietors,  was  now  owned  by  Mr.  Atkin- 
son and  his  associates. 

It  was  finally  concluded  to  help  Than  make 
a  home  for  himself  in  the  interior,  quite  beyond 


48  TO    ESCAPE    TROUBLE. 

the  reach  and  search  of  Dugan.  In  order  to  do 
this,  his  departure  must  be  speedy  and  secret, 
and  his  location  miles  in  advance  of  the  frontier 
settlements. 

'  Epsom  had  been  partially  settled  a  few  years 
already,  but  the  inhabitants  were  few.  The  same 
was  the  case  with  Northwood,  but  between 
these  and  the  Winnipesockee  Lake  stretched 
an  unbroken  wilderness,  "where  the  foot  of 
man  had  ne'er  or  rarely  been."  If  Than  should 
penetrate  this  territory  far  enough  he  would  be 
entirely  safe  from  discovery  and  the  pursuit  of 
Dugan. 

When  this  plan  was  suggested  to  him  he  re- 
garded it  with  small  favor,  though  he  said  little 
to  the  designers  to  oppose  it.  But  to  his  wife 
he  expressed  his  bitter  complaints  for  being 
obliged  to  hide  himself  in  the  wilderness. 

"  I  jest  wish  now  I  never  'd  left  the  old  hut  at 
the  Cove,"  said  he. 

"It  does  seem  awful  hard,  Than,  but  let  us 
remember  the  hand  of  the  Lord  is  in  all  things. 
Everything  that  has  come  tu  us  yit  has  proved 
a  blessin'  in  disguise,  ye  know,  Than,  and  pr'aps 
this  may." 


TO    ESCAPE    TROUBLE.  49 

"How  can  it  be  a  blessin'  to  have  to  live 
alone  in  the  woods,  Debby  ?  " 

"  Ye  know,  Than,  we  was  happy  when  we 
lived  alone  at  the  Cove,  and  we  sha'n't  be  much 
more  alone  in  the  woods." 

"  We  had  the  sea  then,  and  could  see  vessels 
pass  now'n  then,  but  when  we're  in  the  woods 
there's  nothing  to  see  nor  hear,"  said  Than  de- 
spondently. 

"  The  Bible  says,  '  Fear  not,  for  I  am  with 
thee.'  '  Be  not  dismayed,  for  I  am  thy  God.' 
Now  if  we  have  God  with  us,  we  needn't  fear 
nothin'." 

"  Wai,  Debby,  you've  oilers  been  right  in  your 
way  of  lookin'  at  things,  and  p'raps  ye  are  now, 
but  I  can't  see  how  it  can  be  this  time." 

"  We  couldn't  see  how  it  was  goin'  tu  be  for 
the  best  when  they  brought  us  up  here,  but  we 
were  sayin'  only  t'other  day  how  much  better 
off  we  are  here  than  in  Portsmouth." 

"  That  are  is  true,  sartin." 

"The  ways  of  Providence  is  often  dark  and 
mysterious,  but  we  know  that  all  things  works 
together  for  good  tu  them  that  trust  in  the  Lord 
and  are  led  by  Him." 


5O  TO   ESCAPE    TROUBLE. 

"Wai,  there's  no  other  way  tu  do,  so  to-night 
Uncle  Zeeb  and  Jim  and  I'll  start." 

"Are  ye  all  goin'?  " 

"  Yis  ;  the  Gov'ner  and  the  rest  on  'em  are 
goin'  to  have  a  horse  loaded  with  lots  of  things, 
over  to  Durham,  and  Uncle  Zeeb's  goin',  to 
bring  the  horse  back  and  help  me  find  a  good 
place  tu  settle.  Jim  will  stay  with  me,  and  Uncle 
Zeeb  will  come  every  week  with  a  hoss-load  of 
provisions." 

"I'm  glad  Jim's  goin'  with  ye." 

"I  am  tu;  and  Jim's  jest  crazy  tu  go.  It'll 
jest  suit  him  tu  be  in  the  woods." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

SAFETY    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

AS  the  moon  rose,  full  and  round,  Than, 
Uncle  Zeeb  and  Jim  quietly  left  the  Pis- 
cassick  and  retired  to  Durham.  There,  at  the 
appointed  place  of  rendezvous,  they  found  some 
of  their  friends,  and  the  horse  ready  to  be  loaded 
up.  This  was  soon  done,  'and  definite  directions 
given  as  to  the  course  they  were  to  pursue. 

A  road  led  from  Durham  to  a  settlement  in 
the  edge  of  Nottingham.  They  were  to  follow 
this  road  that  night  till  they  came  to  a  logging 
camp  or  hut,  which  they  would  reach  sometime 
after  midnight.  Here  they  would  find  things 
prepared  for  them  to  spend  the  rest  of  the  night 
comfortably,  and  the  means  for  cooking  their 
breakfast.  They  would  here  be  beyond  danger 
of  discovery,  and  need  not  be  in  a  hurry  in  the 
morning. 

From  the  logging  camp  they  were  to  leave  the 
51 


52  SAFETY    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

Nottingham  road  and  take  a  cart  path  leading 
to  the  right.  This  cart  path  extended  several 
miles  into  the  wilderness,  and  they  would  find  it 
ran  into  an  old  Indian  trail  which  they  could 
follow.  It  finally  led  to  the  Suncook  River,  and 
perhaps  to  Winnipesockee  Lake.  Than  was  told 
that  he  need  not  go  so  far  as  the  Suncook,  but 
to  select  his  settlement  at  some  distance  on  the 
northerly  side  of  the  trail,  as  less  likely  to  be 
discovered  by  pioneers  and  stragglers. 

By  taking  this  course  Uncle  Zeeb  would  have 
no  difficulty  in  returning  to  him  whenever  it  was 
necessary. 

The  three  were  soon  on  their  way,  and  came, 
in  due  time,  to  the  camping  place  indicated,  and 
spent  the  night. 

It  was  the  latter  half  of  May,  just  three  years 
after  Than  had  come  to  Lamprey  River  from 
Portsmouth,  that  he  was  making  this  flight  from 
the  former  place,  and  owing  to  the  influence  of 
the  man  that  sent  him  away  from  Portsmouth. 

They  halted  at  noon  for  dinner  and  rest,  on 
the  side  of  a  swift  running  brook  of  clear  water, 
fifteen  or  twenty  miles  from  where  they  had 
encamped  the  night  previous. 


SAFETY    IN    THE   WILDERNESS.  53 

While  Than  and  Uncle  Zeeb  were  kindling  a 
fire,  Jim  had  got  out  his  fishing  tackle,  and, 
selecting  a  slender  pole  from  a  clump  of  alders, 
he  was  soon  seen  with  a  string  of  the  finest 
trout  by  his  side,  which  assisted  in  furnishing  a 
dinner  that  was  truly  inviting. 

An  examination  of  their  locality  showed  that 
they  were  about  midway  between  two  heights 
or  mountains,  one  on  either  hand.  The  one 
on  the  left  is  now  known  as  the  McCoy,  the 
other  the  Catamount,  and  they  determined  to 
make  their  way  to  the  one  on  the  right,  leaving 
any  further  pursuit  of  the  trail.  Going  round 
the  side  of  a  pond  they  came  near  the  foot  of 
the  mountain  on  the  easterly  side,  where  they 
halted,  and  leaving  Jim  with  the  horse  to  await 
their  return,  Than  and  Uncle  Zeeb  started  for 
the  summit  of  the  mountain,  to  better  survey  the 
territory  around  and  before  them.  The  view 
was  wide,  of  a  silent  and  unbroken  wilderness, 
save  where  a  wood-embosomed  lake  or  pond  glim- 
mered and  sparkled  in  the  sunlight.  Faintly 
the  sound  of  a  water-fall  reached  their  ears  from 
the  Suncook  River,  not  more  than  two  miles 
distant. 


54  SAFETY    IN    THE   WILDERNESS. 

Down  among  the  foothills  of  the  mountain 
appeared  a  level  space,  and  to  this  place  they 
decided  to  make  their  way.  During  their  ab- 
sence Jim  had  been  trying  his  hand  again  at 
fishing,  and  had  taken  from  the  pond  near  by 
several  large  pickerel,  some  of  which  still  floun- 
dered about  amid  the  dry  leaves  on  the  shore. 

"Them's  for  supper,"  said  Jim,  as  he  pro- 
ceeded to  partially  dress  the  fish  and  then  string 
them  on  a  crotched  twig,  to  take  them  along 
with  him. 

On  reaching  the  place  sighted  from  the  sum- 
mit of  the  mountain,  it  was  found  to  possess  all 
the  qualities  and  advantages  desirable.  Upon 
one  side  was  a  brook  of  clear  water.  The 
ground  was  tolerably  level,  and  the  kind  of  trees 
—  beech,  oak  and  maple  mostly,  with  a  few  of 
other  kinds  —  indicated  a  generous  soil,  and  a 
spring  near  the  middle  of  the  level  space,  seemed 
to  mark  the  spot  for  a  dwelling. 

Though  at  some  distance  below  the  summit  of 
the  mountain,  it  still  had  an  extensive  and  varied 
outlook  and  prospect ;  and  here,  with  Uncle 
Zeeb's  concurrence,  Than  decided  to  set  up  his 
future  home. 


SAFETY    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  55 

It  will  be  unnecessary  to  follow  him  in  the 
progress  of  his  labor.  It  was  the  work  of  a 
short  time  to  provide  a  temporary  place  of  shel- 
ter and  deposit  for  the  supplies  brought  by  the 
horse.  Uncle  Zeeb  remained  the  following  day, 
and  the  two,  with  their  axes,  made  quite  an 
opening  in  the  forest. 

It  was  then  arranged  that  Than  should  spend 
the  time  before  Uncle  Zeeb's  return  to  him 
from  below,  in  getting  logs  of  the  right  size  and 
length  for  the  construction  of  his  log  cabin, 
which  could  be  put  up  at  that  time. 

Humphrey  Dugan  was  in  a  rage  when  he 
found  his  victim  had  escaped  him.  Every  town 
and  settlement  in  the  province,  and  some  of  the 
neighboring  provinces,  were  searched  for  him, 
but  no  one  seemed  to  have  any  knowledge  of 
his  whereabouts. 

Than's  wife  and  children  were  moved  back  to 
Lamprey  River,  and  for  months  Dugan  set  a 
watch  about  the  place,  to  give  notice  of  his  re- 
turn, but  no  information  was  gained  in  this  way. 

Another  man  was  employed  to  take  Than's 
place  at  the  mill,  and  Uncle  Zeeb  continued  to 
work  there.  His  going  away  for  a  day  or  two, 


56  SAFETY    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

now  and  then,  excited  no  remark  or  suspicion, 
and  Jim's  absence  was  not  noticed,  as  it  was  sup- 
posed that  he  was  up  to  his  old  habits  of  skurry- 
ing  off  somewhere  in  the  province,  hunting,  fish- 
ing, boating  or  the  like. 

Than  and  Jim  spent  the  first  year  at  the  set- 
tlement alone,  as  by  so  doing  it  was  easier  to 
supply  the  demands  of  the  family,  and  the  chil- 
dren would  be  better  off. 

A  little  more  than  a  year  after  the  disappear- 
ance of  Than,  his  family  followed  him  to  his  new 
home.  Their  departure  was  made  in  such  a 
quiet  manner  that  not  a  ripple  was  caused  by 
it  on  the  surface  of  affairs.  All  that  Dugan 
could  learn,  weeks  after  they  had  left,  was,  that 
they  had  gone,  no  one  seemed  to  know  when  or 
whither. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ARRIVAL    OF   THE   HOUSEHOLD. 

WAL,  Debby,  what  du  ye  think  of  this  for 
a  home?"  asked  Than,  the  morning 
after  the  arrival  of  the  family,  which  had  been 
near  the  dusk  of  the  previous  evening. 

"  Why,  it's  real  pleasant  here ;  I  'spected  tu 
find  it  in  some  lonesome,  dismal  place  out  of 
sight  of  everything." 

"'Tis  a  harnsome  place,  I  think,  tu,  and  now 
you'n  the  children's  here  it'll  seem  like  home. 
I'd  no  idee  I  should  ever  like  it  so  well." 

"But  where  are  Winnie  and  Caleb  ? " 

"  Oh !  they're  off  with  Jim,  half-way  up  top  of 
the  mountain,  I  dare  say,  by  this  time,"  said 
Than. 

A  faint  call  "came  like  a  falling  star,"  and, 
looking  up,  three  forms  could  be  seen  against 
the  morning  sky,  standing  on  a  jutting  ledge 
near  the  summit  of  the  mountain. 

"  'F  I  die,  'f  they  ain't  way  up  there  this  min- 
57 


58  ARRIVAL    OF    THE    HOUSEHOLD. 

ute  !  "  exclaimed  the  mother.  "  Why,  if  they 
should  fall  they'd  break  their  necks !  " 

"  They'll  look  out  for  that,  I  warrant  ye," 
said  Than.  "What  a  picter  Winnie  is  growing 
tu  be,"  he  continued. 

"  Yis,"  said  Debby ;  "  she's  the  wonder  and 
admiration  of  everybody  that  sees  her,  but 
nobody  has  any  idee  she  ain't  ourn." 

"  She's  jest  a  little  angel,  's  what  she  is,"  said 
Than  admiringly. 

"The  schoolmarm  said  she  beats  all  tu  Tarn. 
She  can  read  now  like  a  parson." 

"  Du  tell !    Did  Caleb  go  to  school  tu  ? " 

"  Yis;  but  he  didn't  take  tu  readin'  's  Winnie 
did.  He  can  read  some,  though.  I've  been  'fraid 
'twould  make  Winnie  vain  tu  have  so  much 
notice  taken  on  her  by  everybody,  but  it  don't, 
one  mite." 

"Wai,  she's  a  mystery.     I  "Should  like  tu  know 

suthin'  nuther  'bout  her." 

/ 

"If  that  time  ever  comes,  she'll  cease  tu  be 
ourn,  I'm  afraid,"  said  Debby,  musingly. 

"Du  ye  think  so?"  said  Than.  "Then  I'd 
ruther  know  nothin'  'bout  her." 

Than's  log  cabin  was  hardly  after  the  style  of 


ARRIVAL    OF    THE    HOUSEHOLD.  59 

the  hut  on  the  beach,  at  Cold  Spring  Cove,  on 
the  Jersey  shore.  His  ideas  of  architecture  and 
comfort  had  advanced  somewhat  since  that  was 
left,  as  was  manifest  in  his  new  home.  The 
walls  of  the  cabin  were  low,  but  the  roof  was 
high.  Inside,  the  logs  were  hewn  smooth  ;  and, 
having  been  cut  on  the  sides  that  came  together, 
these,  with  the  aid  of  the  clay  mortar,  in  which 
they  were  laid,  made  the  structure  tolerably 
impervious  to  wind  or  rain.  The  roof  was  made 
of  layers  of  hemlock  bark  laid  on  good  strong 
rafters,  and  between  the  layers  of  the  bark  was 
spread  a  thin  layer  of  soft  meadow  hay,  which 
kept  out  both  wind  and  snow  in  winter.  Wholly 
across  the  north  end  of  the  cabin  was  the  stone 
chimney,  with  its  cavernous  fireplace,  capable 
of  digesting  the  largest  logs  that  could  be  fed 
into  it. 

The  cabin  was  full  twenty  feet  long  by  twelve 
wide,  and  was  all  in  one  room  below,  with  two 
above,  or  in  the  attic.  The  door  opened  out- 
wardly on  the  south  end,  with  a  window  on  the 
east  side,  and  one  in  the  gable  over  the  door,  to 
give  light  in  the  attics. 

On  the  whole,  the  cabin  was  a  fair  specimen 


6O  ARRIVAL    OF    THE    HOUSEHOLD. 

of  frontier  architecture,  and  decidedly  comfort- 
able. 

Than  and  Jim  had  managed  to  make  a  pretty 
broad  opening  in  the  forest,  and  were  in  a  fair 
way  soon  to  have  everything  necessary  to  com- 
fort around  them.  Uncle  Zeeb  often  came  for 
a  few  days,  to  lend  a  hand  with  the  horse,  with 
which  he  brought  provisions,  to  plow  and  do 
other  necessary  team  work,  and  in  this  way 
much  had  been  accomplished. 

To  add  to  the  advantages  of  the  farm  and 
location,  at  the  distance  of  half  a  mile  below, 
the  brook  which  ran  along  a  little  way  from 
the  cabin,  after  rushing  down  a  rapid  descent 
nearly  the  whole  distance,  came  to  a  natural 
meadow  or  narrow  intervale,  without  a  tree  or 
shrub,  covered,  in  the  summer  season,  with  luxu- 
riant grass  of  good  quality  for  fodder,  and  in 
quantity  sufficient  for  quite  a  stock  of  cattle  and 
sheep.* 

It  would  be  difficult  to  find  two  happier  bodies 
than  Caleb  and  Winnie  were  in  their  new  home. 

*To  this  natural  meadow  the  first  settlers  of  Epsom  actu- 
ally came  in  summer  and  cut  the  grass,  and  drew  it  home  on 
'sleds  in  the  winter.  So  I  have  heard  my  father  say. 


ARRIVAL    OF    THE    HOUSEHOLD.  6l 

For  several  days  after  their  arrival  Than  encour- 
aged Jim  to  leave  work  and  go  round  with  them. 
The  top  of  the  mountain  was  at  first  a  great 
place  of  attraction.  The  brook  was  the  next, 
and  this  they  followed  into  the  valley  below, 
bringing  back  large  numbers  of  trout,  and  other 
fish  caught  by  Jim. 

Running  water  seemed  to  possess  a  charm 
for  Winnie.  She  would  stand,  as  if  spellbound, 
and  gaze  upon  and  watch  it  for  hours  at  a  time, 
when  Jim  and  Caleb  were  away  on  excursions  too 
long  to  be  accompanied  by  her.  She  was  never 
lonesome.  She  seemed  to  find  interest  and 
amusement  in  everything  about  her. 

The  household  afforded  but  one  book,  the 
Bible,  and,  young  as  she  was,  she  had  already 
learned  to  find  in  its  narratives  and  biographies 
much  to  interest  her,  especially  the  books  of 
Esther  and  Ruth,  and  portions  of  several  others. 
But  the  Book  of  Nature  as  yet  had  the  greatest 
attraction  for  her. 

Wild  birds  were  numerous,  and  they  seemed 
scarcely  to  fear  her.  Wild  flowers  were  abundant 
too,  and  many  of  them  strange  to  her ;  almost 
daily  she  made  collections  of  all  that  could  be 


62  ARRIVAL    OF    THE    HOUSEHOLD. 

found,  and  amused  herself  in  observing  the  won- 
derful variety  in  color,  form  and  fragrance. 

The  mystery  that  hung  about  her  parentage 
caused  her  to  be  regarded  by  those  whom  she 
called,  and  supposed  to  be,  her  father  and  mother, 
very  differently  from  what  they  would  their  own 
offspring.  It  was  not  lack  of  affection  or  ten- 
derness, but  it  was  a  certain  respect  and  careful- 
ness, which  had  an  influence  for  good  upon  the 
child,  that  can  hardly  be  described.  It  was  both 
refining  and  elevating.  Parents,  especially  at 
that  day,  were  often  guilty  of  treating  their  chil- 
dren as  objects  of  commonplace,  and  of  little 
account,  which  is  decidedly  wrong.  Of  this, 
these  humble  people  were  wholly  guiltless,  and 
the  result  was  of  importance  in  its  effect  upon 
the  life  of  Winnie, 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE   BOY    HUNTERS. 

THAN  had  been  told  that  if  he  would  pro- 
vide shelter  and  a  plenty  of  fodder,  he 
should  be  furnished  with  a  cow,  and  with  sheep 
as  soon  as  his  farm  was  sufficiently  enclosed  to 
keep  them  within  bounds,  and  safe  from  wild 
beasts.  The  place  of  shelter  for  the  cow  was 
easily  prepared,  and  the  fodder  readily  secured 
from  the  meadow,  in  addition  to  what  was  fur- 
nished from  the  stalks  of  the  corn,  and  the  straw 
from  the  wheat  and  rye. 

The  summer  passed  quickly  and  happily  with 
all  at  the  cabin.  And  we  will  pass  over  it  and 
the  autumn  lightly,  for  few  incidents  worthy  of 
attention  beside  what  have  already  been  hinted 
at,  or  that  cannot  be  easily  imagined,  occurred. 
Quite  late  in  the  fall  Uncle  Zeeb  came  with  the 
promised  cow,  and  the  next  time  he  came  with 
provisions,  he  had  upon  the  horse  a  small  coop 
of  hens.  This  was  the  last  trip  of  the  season 
63 


64  THE    BOY    HUNTERS. 

from  "below,"  for  it  could  even  then  be  said  that 
from  the  Northern  mountains,  distinctly  visible 
from  the  cabin,  winter's 

"  banners  flout  the  sky, 
And  fan  our  people  cold." 

This  caused  little  regret.  The  wheat  and  rye 
had  been  taken  "below"  by  Uncle  Zeeb,  and 
returned  as  flour ;  and  part  of  the  corn,  too,  had 
been  reduced  to  meal,  and  nothing  seemed  lack- 
ing to  be  able  to  withstand  winter's  severest 
siege.  The  wood  pile,  in  a  rude  building,  or 
shed,  near  the  house,  and  into  which  a  door  from 
the  house  opened,  showed  ample  means  for  beat- 
ing back  the  fiercest  assaults  of  wintry  winds, 
however  roughly  they  might  howl  around  the 
solitary  cabin. 

Sometimes  the  time  dragged  rather  heavily 
with  Caleb  and  Jim,  during  the  long  winter 
evenings.  They  could  get  through  the  day  well 
enough,  especially  Jim,  as  a  huge  pile  of  logs 
had  been  provided  just  outside  the  woodhouse, 
to  supplement  the  stock  within,  in  case  the  sup- 
ply should  run  low,  and  he  found  enough  to  do 
there  to  content  himself. 

Snowshoes  were  not  so  great  a  rarity  in  those 


THE    BOY    HUNTERS.  65 

days  as  at  present,  and  the  trunk  of  a  small  ash- 
tree  furnished  material  for  their  construction, 
and  this  for  a  time  afforded  new  business  for 
both  Than  and  the  boys,  day  and  evening. 
Caleb  seemed  to  have  the  greater  ingenuity  and 
skill  in  this  work,  and  his  shoes  were  indeed  a 
sample  of  good  workmanship.  These  afforded  to 
him  and  Jim  the  means  of  traversing  the  woods 
for  game,  and  they  seldom  returned  to  the  cabin 
empty-handed. 

Caleb  was  now  in  his  teens,  and  though,  per- 
haps, as  tall  as  many  boys  of  his  age,  he  was  of 
scarce  half  the  usual  weight.  At  first  sight  his 
slight  frame  and  apparently  bloodless  face,  would 
impress  one  that  he  was  on  the  verge  of  the 
grave,  but  the  light  of  his  small,  but  clear  gray 
eye,  indicated  a  bright,  sharp  spirit  within.  He 
was  a  wonder  to  his  mother,  whose  care  and 
anxiety  for  him  were  always  on  the  alert.  She 
felt  that  any  severe  sickness,  or  even  severe  cold, 
might  prove  fatal  to  his  delicate  constitution, 
and  was  disposed  to  check  his  love  of  hunting 
and  tramping  through  the  forest  with  Jim,  who 
never  seemed  to  find  fatigue  or  hardship  in  any- 
thing. 


66  THE    BOY    HUNTERS. 

While  on  their  tramps,  Jim  always  insisted 
on  carrying  both  guns  till  they  were  likely  to  be 
wanted  for  use  ;  and  the  same  with  any  other 
burden.  And  it  is  doubtful  if  he  would  not 
have  borne  Caleb  too,  if  allowed  to. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

CLOSING   WINTER   DAYS. 

THE  winter  wore  away  ;  it  had  been  one  of 
unusual  severity.  The  snow  was  deep ; 
and  before  the  snow  came,  the  cold  days  and 
long  nights  had  thickened  the  ice  on  lake  and 
pond. 

The  number  of  the  latter  lying  round  the 
mountain  was  indeed  a  singular  feature  in  the 
landscape.  Eight  or  nine  could  be  counted  from 
the  summit.  All  had  been  visited  by  Caleb  and 
Jim  more  than  once,  and  each  found  to  abound 
in  fish. 

February,  the  last  and  shortest  month  of  win- 
ter, set  in  fierce  and  blustering.  The  snow,  al- 
ready four  feet  deep  in  the  woods,  still  deepened, 
and  the  winds,  which  had  been  prevalent  and 
sharp  all  winter,  increased  in  fierceness,  and  all 
the  inmates  of  the  lone  cottage  on  the  mountain- 
side were  glad  to  keep  within  doors.  Not  a 
creature  stirred  abroad.  Even  the  winter  birds 
67 


68  CLOSING   WINTER    DAYS. 

that  regularly  flit  from  tree  to  tree,  searching 
for  their  daily  food,  kept  within  their  places  of 
retreat  —  the  hollow  trunks  or  thick  boughs  of 
the  trees. 

The  evening  of  the  last  day  of  the  month,  the 
time  when  the  grasp  of  winter  at  the  throat  of 
prostrate  Nature  is  usually  wont  to  begin  to 
slacken,  now,  on  the  contrary,  actually  tightened, 
and  as  the  sun  went  down  in  darkness  at  the 
west,  the  winds  roared  and  howled  with  increased 
energy. 

"  The  mountain  thunders  and  its  sturdy  sons 
Stoop  to  the  bottom  of  the  rocks  they  shade." 

Huge  logs  were  piled  high  in  the  yawning,  cav- 
ernous fireplace,  which  sputtered  and  crackled 
as  the  flames  mounted  up  almost  to  the  chimney 
top,  and  sent  out  sparks  that,  caught  by  the 
winds,  went  rushing,  like  will-o'-the-wisps,  into 
the  adjoining  forest.  Within  the  cottage,  the 
brightness  almost  of  the  sunlight  and  warmth 
of  summer  prevailed. 

Than  and  Jim  had  been  busy  a  part  of  the 
evening  preparing  "  spiles  "  in  readiness  for  sugar- 
making  when  warm  weather  should  arrive,  and 
Caleb  was  putting  a  few  finishing  touches  upon 


CLOSING    WINTER    DAYS.  69 

a  handsled  he  had  been  making  for  coasting 
when  the  thaws  in  daytime,  and  frosts  at  night, 
should  bridge  the  deep  snow  with  a  "crust,"  and 
many  a  fine  ride  he  anticipated  for  himself  and 
Winnie,  for  whose  interest  and  amusement  he 
was  always  planning. 

Debby  was  busy  with  her  knitting,  but  was  just 
preparing  to  lay  it  by,  for  the  usual  bedtime  to 
all  the  household  had  arrived,  and  Winnie,  who 
had  for  the  hundredth  time  read  the  book  of  Es- 
ther, had  just  closed  the  well-worn,  sacred  volume, 
when  a  noise  was  heard  that  startled  them  all, 
causing  a  profound  silence  as  they  listened  with 
bated  breath  and  anxious  looks.  It  sounded  as 
if  some  one  was  at  the  door  seeking  entrance. 
In  a  moment  it  was  repeated  more  distinctly 
than  before. 

"What  'pon  airth?"  ejaculated  Than,  scarcely 
above  a  whisper,  unable  to  finish  the  sentence 
from  surprise  and  alarm. 

"Somebody's  there,"  whispered  his  wife. 

"It  can't  be  any  human  critter,"  said  Than, 
whose  evident  alarm  was  certainly  excusable. 

The  sound  was  repeated,  and  the  door  itself 
this  time  responded  to  the  energy  of  the  assault. 


/O  CLOSING    WINTER    DAYS. 

"Whose  there?"  demanded  Than,  in  a  loud, 
husky  voice. 

There  was  a  muffled,  inarticulate  response  as 
the  assault  was  repeated. 

"It  sartin  is  some  man/'  whispered  Debby, 
pale  with  affright  as  the  thought  of  Dugan  came 
into  her  mind. 

Winnie  had  caught  hold  of  her  mother,  and 
Caleb  and  Jim  stood  one  on  each  side  of  Than. 
After  a  moment  of  hesitation,  he  said, 

"The  door  must  be  opened,  for  whoever  'tis 
will  die  if  I  don't." 

As  the  door  swung  outward,  and  the  fierce 
wind  had  piled  the  snow  around  it,  it  was  with 
some  difficulty  that  it  could  be  set  ajar  even, 
when  an  object  that  might  well  alarm  the  stout- 
est heart  under  the  circumstances,  was  revealed 
by  the  bright  glow  of  the  logs  in  the  fireplace. 

Though  covered  with  furs,  it  was  not  a  wild 
beast,  for  it  had  snowshoes  upon  its  feet.  With 
much  effort  the  object  came  in,  but  instantly  fell 
to  the  floor.  For  a  moment  every  one  was  dumb 
with  terror.  Debby  was  the  first  to  say, 

"It's  some  poor  critter,  and  we  must  du  some- 
thin'  or  he'll  die." 


CLOSING    WINTER    DAYS.  /I 

Summoning  courage,  they  removed  the  fur 
skins  that  enveloped  the  head,  and,  to  their  ter- 
ror, saw  before  them  the  gaunt,  hunger-pinched 
features  of  an  Indian. 

Debby  and  Winnie  drew  back,  the  former 
pale  with  affright,  but  after  a  moment,  said,  - 

"He  can't  'a'  come  tu  hurt  us." 

"No;  that's  sartin,"  replied  Than  ;  "he's  'bout 
starved  tu  death,  by  's  looks.  What  shall  we  du  ? " 

"You  loosen  the  things  'bout  him  —  there,  he 
stirs  !  —  and  I'll  give  him  some  warm  drink  tu 
bring  him  tu." 

The  teakettle  was  bubbling  and  singing  on  the 
crane  in  the  corner  of  the  fireplace  —  for  the 
little  cabin  was  not  without  its  comforts,  thanks 
to  the  liberal  friends  of  the  inmates  "below." 
Than  removed  the  fur-skin  wraps  that  were 
about  the  emaciated  form,  and  Debby  soon  had 
a  cup  of  warm  drink  which  her  husband  held  to 
the  lips  of  the  Indian  as  he  raised  his  head  with 
one  hand.  The  cup  was  drained  with  some  dif- 
ficulty, but  with  evident  relish  and  good  effect. 
The  snowshoes  were  removed  from  his  feet, 
which  were  then  wrapped  in  one  of  the  fur  skins 
that  had  been  warmed  before  the  fire. 


72  CLOSING    WINTER   DAYS. 

While  this  was  being  done,  Debby  prepared 
some  light  food,  which  the  poor  famished  creat- 
ure eagerly  devoured. 

"  Folks  say  't  won't  du  tu  give  starved  people 
tu  much  at  once,"  she  said  in  a  whisper  to  Than, 
observing  the  eager,  longing  look  of  the  savage. 

In  a  short  time,  however,  more  was  given  him, 
and  he  seemed  in  a  measure  satisfied.  Then, 
crawling  to  the  side  of  the  fire,  and  adjusting  his 
fur  wraps  for  a  kind  of  bed,  the  poor  creature 
was  soon  in  a  deep,  quiet  sleep. 

Being  now  long  past  the  usual  bedtime  for  the 
inmates,  it  was  with  some  anxiety  that  Debby 
asked : 

"  What  shall  we  du  ?  Du  ye  'spose  it  '11  be 
safe  to  sleep  here,  with  him  in  the  room  ? " 

"  Oh  !  the  poor  critter  can't  hurt  nobody,  and 
ye  know  they  say  an  Injun  never  hurts  them 
that  befriends  'um." 

"  I  guess  there  hain't  no  danger,"  said  Debby, 
cheerfully  ;  and  all  prepared  to  retire. 

The  rooms  overhead  were  not  reached  by 
winding  stairs,  or  stairs  at  all,  but  each  apart- 
ment had  a  short  ladder,  as  the  room  on  the 
ground  floor  was  low,  which,  when  not  in  use, 


CLOSING    WINTER    DAYS.  73 

was  hung  up  below  the  timbers  that  sustained 
the  attic  floor,  and  a  " trap-door"  was  opened 
as  one  wished  to  go  up  or  come  down.  In  a 
short  time  quiet  and  slumber  pervaded  the  cabin, 
where  terror  and  dismay  had  for  a  time  held 
possession. 

For  many  days  and  nights  the  Indian  hugged 
the  corner  by  the  fire,  not  a  word  having  been 
heard  from  his  lips.  If  he  left  it,  it  was  to  re- 
turn almost  immediately.  At  first  he  was  so  weak 
he  could  with  difficulty  walk,  but  his  strength 
returned  rapidly  with  the  generous  supply  of 
food  which  was  set  before  him.  He  had  all  the 
characteristic  traits  and  features  of  his  race,  with 
the  exception  of  his  height,  which  was  rather  be- 
low the  medium  of  his  people.  He  had  evidently 
seen  of  years  at  least  half  a  century,  and  possibly 
many  more,  though  his  hair  was  still  black. 
There  were  deep  lines  on  his  face,  and  across  his 
forehead,  which  was  more  ample  than  is  seen  in 
the  face  of  the  average  Indian. 

It  did  seem  for  a  time  after  the  advent  of 
spring,  nominally,  that  winter  was  determined  to 
usurp  the  entire  year ;  for  though  the  sun  mount- 
ed higher  and  higher  in  the  heavens,  its  beams 


74  CLOSING    WINTER    DAYS. 

seemed  to  wage  a  losing  warfare  with  the  fierce 
forces  of  winter. 

The  Indian  was  hardly  a  desirable  inmate,  but 
he  could  not  be  turned  out  of  the  cabin  in  such 
weather,  so  he  stayed  on.  A  chair  was  offered 
him,  but  he  preferred  to  sit  upon  the  floor,  using 
the  furs  with  which  he  was  enveloped,  for  a 
seat,  or  cushion,  by  day,  and  as  a  bed  by  night. 
He  appeared  to  understand  the  sanitary  laws  to 
some  extent,  for,  after  the  first  week,  almost 
daily,  he  took  his  couch  to  the  door,  and,  shaking 
the  skins,  thus  gave  them  an  airing. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  third  week  after  his 
coming,  in  the  morning,  after  he  had  eaten  what 
had  been  set  before  him,  to  break  his  fast,  he 
said,  as  he  still  sat  in  his  accustomed  corner, 
"White  brother  very  good  to  Catamount." 

"  Is  Catamount  your  name  ?  "  asked  Than. 

"What  white  man  call  'um." 

"  Do  you  live  any  where  'bout  here  ? "  con* 
tinued  Than. 

"  In  his  lodge  by  the  Winnipesockee." 

"  Any  more  of  your  folks  there  ?  " 

The  Indian  shook  his  head. 

For  a  moment  he  was  silent,  then  added : 


CLOSING    WINTER   DAYS.  75 

"  Catamount  the  last  of  his  race.  Once,  his 
his  people,  the  Penacooks,  a  great  nation,  and 
the  friends  of  the  white  man.  But  the  face  of 
the  Great  Spirit  was  turned  away  from  the  red 
man,  and  he  love  the  white  man  more.  Ingun 
poor,  white  man  rich.  Ingun  know  nothing, 
white  man  wise  —  knows  everything.  He  want 
much  land  —  Ingun  in  the  way.  He  go  off,  but 
Catamount  love  the  home  of  his  fathers,  and 
stay.  He  have  nothing  in  his  lodge.  Winter 
long;  he  come  to  his  white  brother.  He  give 
him  much  good.  He  die,  but  white  brother 
make  him  live.  Catamount  love  his  white 
brother." 

This  was  spoken  slowly,  and  after  long  pauses. 
When  he  had  finished,  Than  said  :  "  Ye're  wel- 
come to  stay  here  ;  we've  'nuff.  Warm  weather 
'11  come  byme-by." 

"  Then  Catamount  go  away,"  said  he. 


CHAPTER   X. 

THE    INDIAN    CATAMOUNT. 

NOT  long  after  this,  warm  weather  did  come 
suddenly,  and  the  south  wind  blew  upon 
the  deep  snow  and  it  melted  away  rapidly.  The 
streams  broke  from  their  icy  fetters,  and  went 
laughing  and  leaping  down  the  hillside  and 
through  the  plain,  "to  join  the  brimming  river." 

Than  and  Jim  tapped  the  sugar  maples  and 
collected  the  sap  and  reduced  it  to  sugar. 

Caleb  was  much  interested  in  the  work,  and, 
though  cautioned  by  his  anxious  mother,  went 
beyond  his  strength,  and,  taking  a  severe  cold, 
was  soon  in  a  burning  fever,  and  shortly  after  be- 
came delirious. 

Both  Than  and  his  wife  were  greatly  alarmed. 
They  had  very  little  medicine,  or  herbs,  in  the 
house  ;  such  as  they  had  they  gave  to  the  sick 
boy,  but  with  little  or  no  effect. 

At  the  coming  on  of  the  warm  weather  Cata- 
mount had  gone  away,  but  not  being  able  fully  to 
76 


THE    INDIAN    CATAMOUNT.  77 

supply  his  own  wants,  he  soon  came  back.  Caleb 
had  then  been  sick  three  days,  and  had  grown 
continually  worse,  till  it  seemed  to  the  anxious 
watchers  that  there  was  little  hope  of  his  recov- 
ery. 

It  was  at  night  when  Catamount  returned  to 
the  cabin.  He  looked  at  the  suffering  boy,  and 
manifested  great  anxiety  as  to  his  condition. 
Seeing  an  earthen  pan  or  bowl,  he  snatched  it 
up  quickly,  and  hurried  from  the  cabin. 

He  was  gone  some  little  time,  and  iipon  his 
return  it  was  evident  that  he  had  been  to  a  place 
quite  distant.  The  bowl  was  filled  with  water, 
and  what  appeared  to  be  twigs  of  trees,  plants, 
bark  and  roots. 

Drawing  coals  from  the  fire  he  set  the  bowl 
upon  them,  and,  as  soon  as  the  chill  was  taken 
off,  providing  himself  with  a  smaller  vessel  taken 
from  the  "  dressers,"  he  poured  a  part  of  the 
water  in  the  bowl  on  the  coals  into  it,  then  re- 
turned it  to  the  fire. 

Going  to  the  sick  boy,  who  was  tossing  and 
moaning  and  muttering  broken,  incoherent  sen- 
tences in  his  delirium,  he  began  bathing  him  at 
his  head  with  the  palm  of  his  hand,  moistened 


. 


78  THE    INDIAN    CATAMOUNT. 

with  the  liquid  he  had  poured  out,  and  so  con- 
tinued until  he  had  bathed  him  to  the  very  ends 
of  his  toes  and  fingers. 

Before  he  had  finished,  the  patient  began  to 
show  signs  of  improvement.  During  this  treat- 
ment the  Indian  kept  watch  of  the  bowl ;  before 
the  contents  came  to  a  boil  he  removed  it  from 
the  fire,  and  when  he  had  finished  the  bathing, 
and  the  decoction  was  sufficiently  cool,  he  caused 
the  patient  to  drink  it  entire. 

This  was  accomplished  with  some  difficulty, 
however,  and  when  he  had  finished,  he  took  his 
old  place  in  the  corner  by  the  fire.  Than  and 
Debby  had  been  silent  observers.  Neither  of 
them  had  scarcely  slept  for  two  or  three  nights, 
so  distressed  were  they  for  their  sick  boy. 
Shortly  after  Catamount  had  retired  to  his  cor- 
ner, and  had  evidently  fallen  asleep,  they  ap- 
proached the  bed  on  which  Caleb  lay,  and  found 
him  in  a  profuse  perspiration,  and  sleeping  as 
softly  and  quietly  as  an  infant. 

The  mother  then  lay  down  beside  him,  and 
was  soon  asleep.  Than»thought  to  remain  awake 
a  while  to  watch  the  condition  of  the  sleeping 
boy,  but  he  too  was  soon  lost  in  slumber,  and 


THE    INDIAN    CATAMOUNT.  79 

neither  of  them  awoke  till  it  was  broad  day- 
light. Caleb  was  still  sleeping.  The  bed  where 
he  lay  was  drenched  as  with  a  quantity  of  water, 
but  the  moisture  had  passed  off,  leaving  him  in 
a  perfectly  natural  condition. 

On  looking  round  they  found  that  Catamount 
was  gone  and  the  dish  in  which  the  draught  had 
been  brewed  was  also  missing.  Before  long  the 
Indian  returned  with  the  bowl  filled  with  water. 
He  looked  on  Caleb,  and  seeing  that  he  still  slept, 
sat  the  vessel  on  the  dresser,  and  seated  him- 
self by  the  side  of  the  bed. 

In  a  few  moments  the  boy  awoke,  and  would 
have  made  an  effort  to  arise,  had  not  the  In- 
dian gently  put  him  back.  Then  taking  the 
bowl,  which  held  fully  a  quart,  he  gathered  the 
clothes  around  Caleb,  and  raising  him  up,  held 
it  to  his  lips  till  he  had  swallowed  all  of  its 
contents.  He  then  laid  him  back  in  the  same 
place  from  which  he  had  lifted  him,  and,  adding 
other  clothing,  to  counteract  the  chill  of  the 
water  he  had  drank,  insisted  upon  his  remaining 
in  this  position  until  the  bed  whereon  he  lay,  and 
all  the  clothing,  had  dried. 

At  noon  when  the  dinner  was  preparing  Caleb 


8O  THE    INDIAN    CATAMOUNT. 

was  hungry  and  asked  to  get  up.  Catamount 
finding  everything  about  him  was  perfectly  dry, 
simply  said,  "  Pale  boy  well ;  may  eat." 

While  in  bed  Caleb  seemed  unaware  that  any- 
thing was  the  matter  with  him,  but  on  getting 
up  he  found  himself  so  weak  he  could  with  diffi- 
culty stand.  Great  was  the  joy  of  the  household 
at  his  recovery.  Winnie  threw  her  arms  around 
him,  hugged  and  kissed  him,  and  Jim,  though 
less  demonstrative,  stood  and  looked  at  him, 
while  his  face  glowed  with  real  happiness.  At 
last  he  said, 

"We've  got  lots  of  sugar,  Caleb!" 

"Oh!  do  give  me  some,"  said  Caleb;  "won't 
ye,  Jim?" 

The  request  was  quickly  obeyed,  and  a  large 
bowlful  brought,  but  a  small  quantity  satisfied 
him,  and  his  mother  had  the  prudence  to  see 
that  he  did  not  eat  hearty  food  but  sparingly  at 
dinner.  But  in  a  few  days  all  trace  of  the  fever 
had  disappeared,  and  the  lad,  as  his  mother  said, 
seemed  better  than  ever. 

From  that  time  the  Indian  was  regarded  as  a 
real  benefactor  in  the  household.  An  intimacy 
sprang  up  between  him  and  Caleb ;  he  seemed 


THE    INDIAN    CATAMOUNT.  8 1 

pleased  to  have  the  Pale  Boy  abroad  with  him. 
They  hunted  and  fished  together,  and  the  cabin 
table  was  often  furnished  with  the  choicest  of 
game  and  fish. 

The  method  of  passing  the  Sunday  at  the 
cabin  was  usually  on  this  wise:  when  the  break- 
fast was  over,  and  the  few  chores  done,  the  fam- 
ily sat  by,  while  Winnie  read  from  the  Bible  for 
an  hour  or  more.  Her  voice  was  low  and  sweet 
as  a  wild  bird's,  and  she  read  "with  the  spirit 
and  the  understanding  also,"  such  parts  as  were 
familiar  to  her. 

At  no  time  did  the  unvarying  stoicism  of  Cat- 
amount for  a  moment  forsake  him,  save  when 
Winnie  was  reading  from  the  Bible.  This  seemed 
to  involve  a  mystery  too  great  for  his  habitual  in- 
difference. His  dark  keen  eyes  would  wander 
from  her  face  to  the  book,  and  from  the  book  to 
her  face.  Occasionally  a  sentence  would  become 
clearly  intelligible  to  him,  and  he  would  seem  to 
muse  long  upon  it. 

There  is  no  better  proof  that  our  native  In- 
dian tribes  were  susceptible  of  the  poetic  senti- 
ment, than  is  shown  from  the  names  they  gave 
to  natural  objects  :  Winnipesockee,  the  smile  of 


82  THE    INDIAN    CATAMOUNT. 

the  Great  Spirit ;  Minnehaha,  Laughing  Waters ; 
Mississippi,  Father  of  Waters ;  from  the  names 
of  those,  the  meanings  of  which  are  not  so  gen- 
erally known  as  Memphremagog,  Androscoggin, 
Ammonusuck,  Massachusetts,  and  hosts  of 
others,  nearly  all  having,  in  some  measure,  or- 
iginally doubtless  a  poetic  significance.  This 
same  trait  manifested  itself  in  Catamount  in  the 
name  he  gave  to  Winnie,  which  was  Forest 
Flower.  No  doubt  there  was  that  in  her  sweet, 
winning,  graceful  ways  which  reminded  him  of 
some  of  the  beautiful  flowers  that  spring  so 
abundantly  in  the  forests  at  this  season  of  the 
year.  The  Indian  interpretation  would  doubt- 
less be  pleasing  if  we  could  know  it. 

As  the  spring  advanced  and  the  weather  grew 
warm  he  returned  to  his  lodge  by  the  Winnipe- 
sockee,  but  he  was  not  long  at  a  time  a  stranger 
at  the  cabin,  and  not  unfrequently  at  the  return 
of  the  Bible-reading  hour,  the  shadow  of  Cata- 
mount would  darken  the  door  as  he  entered  with 
noiseless  step,  and  took  his  seat  in  his  accus- 
tomed corner  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  Winifred 
as  she  read  from  the  words  of  the  Great  Spirit. 

There  were  two  places,  at  no  great  distance 


THE    INDIAN    CATAMOUNT.  83 

from  the  cabin,  that  possessed  great  attraction 
for  Winnie.  One  was  about  thirty  or  forty  rods 
above  the  cabin,  on  a  spur  of  the  mountain  which 
jutted  out,  commanding  a  beautiful  view ;  the 
almost  unbroken  forests,  the  winding  Suncook 
and  the  distant  mountains.  The  other  was 
about  the  same  distance  below  the  cabin,  by  the 
side  of  the  brook,  where  the  water  comes  rushing 
over  the  descent  and  leaps  from  a  shelving 
ledge  down  two  or  three  feet,  into  a  pebbly 
basin  at  the  roots  of  overshadowing  trees.  This 
was  a  retreat  worthy  of  nymphs  or  naiads.  A 
little  distance  from  the  brook,  but  within  the 
sound  of  the  little  waterfall,  was  a  green  grassy 
spot  where  at  early  morning  the  sunlight  came 
in,  dispelling  the  dampness,  and  encouraging  the 
grass  to  grow  thick  and  beautiful,  while  all 
around  was  more  shady  and  damp  ;  and  there  the 
trailing  arbutus  and  numerous  other  wild  flowers 
gave  out  the  incense  of  their  fragrance. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

ANOTHER  STRANGER  AT  THE  CABIN. 

ONE  Sunday  evening  a  little  before  sunset, 
toward  the  latter  part  of  May,  Winnie 
left  the  cabin  and  climbed  to  her  seat  on  the  jut- 
ting ledge,  over  which  a  leaning  birch  cast  a  par- 
tial canopy  of  leaves.  She  sat  and  watched  the 
sun  as  it  sank  behind  the  gorgeous  clouds  that 
curtained  the  west,  her  pure,  sweet  soul  throb- 
bing with  inexpressible  admiration  at  the  beauty 
of  the  scene  before  her.  Even  after  the  sun 
had  set,  and  the  twilight  had  begun  to  steal  over 
the  landscape,  she  sat  musing,  and  in  a  low,  soft 
voice,  scarcely  audible,  sang,  without  rhyme  or 
measure : 

How  beautiful,  how  beautiful 

Is  all  this  great  world. 
Thy  hand,  O  Lord,  has  made  it  all, 

And  all  the  stars  on  high. 

How  beautiful,  how  beautiful 

Are  the  clouds  in  the  sky, 
The  resting  places  of  the  angels 

As  they  come  down  from  on  high. 


ANOTHER  STRANGER  AT  THE  CABIN.    8$ 

How  beautiful,  how  beautiful 

The  mountains  far  away 
As  they  prop  the  bending  sky 

Upon  their  sunny  peaks. 

A  slight  sound  caused  her  to  turn  her  head, 
when  she  was  surprised  to  see  Catamount  who 
had  not  been  at  the  cabin  for  a  week  or  two, 
standing  near. 

"  Does  Forest  Flower  see  the  Great  Spirit  as 
she  talks  with  Him  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes  ;   all  we  see   is  the  face  of  the  Great 

• 

Spirit.     He  lives  in  it  all,"  replied  Winnie. 

"  He  talks  with  Forest  Flower  and  shows  her 
his  face.  Ingun  no  see  Him,  nor  hear  Him.  In- 
gun  old,  and  deaf,  and  blind.  Catamount  bring  a 
gift  to  Forest  Flower,  made  by  the  hands  of 
Huron  maiden." 

As  he  said  this  he  laid  in  her  lap  a  pair  of 
moccasons  of  the  softest  deerskin,  exquisitely 
made  and  decorated  with  dyed  porcupine  quills, 
after  which  he  departed  as  suddenly  and  as 
silently  as  he  had  come. 

Catamount  was  not  the  only  stranger  who  dur- 
ing that  summer  found  his  way  to  Than's  cabin, 
secret  and  secluded  as  he  supposed  it  to  be. 


86          ANOTHER   STRANGER    AT    THE    CABIN. 

It  was  early  in  July,  and  toward  the  close  of  a 
warm,  pleasant  day.  Than  and  Debby  sat  in  the 
doorway  of  the  cabin.  The  work  was  done, 
and  the  supper  had  just  been  eaten.  Jim, 
Caleb  and  Winnie  were  seated  on  the  grass  a  lit- 
tle distance  from  the  door,  the  two  latter  watch- 
ing Jim  as  he  was  fashioning  a  figure-four  trap 
to  catch  a  troublesome  woodchuck  that  com- 
mitted havoc  among  the  growing  beans,  when 
all  were  startled  to  hear  Winnie  exclaim  in  a 
suppressed  voice, 

"  Who's  that  ?  "  at  the  same  time  pointing  to 
the  edge  of  the  woods  on  the  side  of  the  moun- 
tain. 

"  He's  comin'  here,  whoever  'tis,"  said  Than. 

"  He's  got  a  pack  on's  back.  I  s'h'd  think 
'twas  a  scarce  place  for  ped'lin,"  remarked  Jim. 

All  watched  the  stranger  approach  in  speech- 
less surprise. 

"  You  cannot  be  any  more  surprised  to  see  a 
stranger  here,  than  I  am  to  find  a  human  dwell- 
ing," said  the  stranger. 

"  Wai,  we  don't  have  many  comin'  this  way," 
Than  replied. 

"  I  will  tell  you  who  I  am,  so  you  need  not 


SCHOOLMASTER   ORDIORNE    AT    HOME. 


ANOTHER   STRANGER   AT    THE    CABIN.  8/ 

take  me  for  a  strolling  vagabond.     My  name  is  • 
Isaac  Ordiorne,  schoolmaster  of  Boston  on  Mas- 
sachusetts Bay." 

"  Ye've  come  a  long  piece  tu  get  here,  then," 
said  Than. 

"  Yes.  I'm  engaged  now  in  the  cause  of  Sci- 
ence, as  a  disciple  of  the  great  Linnaeus  who 
wishes  a  specimen  of  every  flower  and  plant  on 
the  earth." 

"  He  must  be  a  strange,  queer  sort  of  a  man," 
Than  answered.  "  Wall,"  he  continued,  "  if 
you'll  put  up  with  our  cabin,  walk  in  and  stop 
to-night,  and  Debby,  my  wife,  '11  get  ye  some 
supper.  We  has  plenty  tu  eat  up  here." 

"  I  am  heartily  thankful,"  said  the  schoolmas- 
ter, as  he  entered  the  cabin  and  took  off  what 
Jim  called  a  pack,  and  set  it  in  one  corner  of  the 
room. 

The  schoolmaster  was  a  small-sized  man,  gen- 
tle and  polite  in  manners,  with  a  mild,  pleasant 
countenance,  and  a  soft,  quiet  tone  of  voice, 
all  of  which  at  once  disarmed  the  family  of  any 
apprehension  that  might  have  arisen  had  his  ap- 
pearance been  otherwise. 

Debby  was  quite  awestruck  at  having  so  im- 


88    ANOTHER  STRANGER  AT  THE  CABIN. 

portant  a  character  for  a  guest,  for,  at  that  day, 
the  schoolmaster  was  second  only  to  the  parson 
in  point  of  dignity  and  consequence  in  public 
estimation.  Still  she  was  able  to  do  her  best, 
and  soon  set  before  him  a  very  tempting  supper, 
to  which  she  had  the  gratification  to  see  he  did 
ample  justice. 

For  his  accommodation  for  the  night  Winnie 
gave  up  her  room  in  the  attic  and  slept  on  a  bed 
prepared  in  the  room  below.  It  was  Saturday 
evening  when  the  schoolmaster  came,  and  at 
breakfast  he  asked  the  privilege  of  spending 
"the  Lord's  day,"  as  he  expressed  it,  at  the 
cabin,  which  was  most  willingly  granted. 

Winnie  was  so  accustomed  to  her  Bible  read- 
ing on  Sunday  morning,  that  as  soon  as  all  were 
prepared  she  took  up,  as  usual,  the  pleasant  duty 
without  thought  of  change  at  the  presence  of 
the  schoolmaster.  Of  late  the  poetry  of  the 
Psalms  had  begun  to  interest  her,  and  as  she 
had  the  Sunday  previous  read  as  far  as  the 
eighteenth,  she  began  there  now. 

Had  she  taken  thought  of  herself,  she  might 
have  been  curious  to  know  whether  the  school- 
master was  interested  in  what  she  was  reading, 


ANOTHER  STRANGER  AT  THE  CABIN.    89 

or  the  manner  in  which  she  read  it.  Had  she 
looked  at  him  she  would  have  found  him  any 
thing  but  a  disinterested  listener.  Not  only 
did  his  ear  catch  eagerly  every  word,  but  his 
large  expressive  eyes  were  fastened  upon  the 
reader  like  one  charmed. 

It  was  a  bright,  beautiful  morning,  and  as 
Winnie  read,  a  shadow  fell  athwart  the  cabin 
door,  and,  with  noiseless  tread,  Catamount  en- 
tered and  took  his  accustomed  place  in  the  cor- 
ner by  the  fireplace. 

At  sight  of  him  the  countenance  of  the 
schoolmaster  suddenly  changed,  manifesting  a 
feeling  of  alarm,  but  when  he  saw  a  look  of 
welcome  on  the  faces  of  the  family,  and  espe- 
cially on  the  sweet  face  of  the  reader,  his  alarm 
subsided  as  suddenly  as  it  had  been  aroused. 
And  when  he  saw  the  interest  with  which  the 
savage  listened  to  the  voice  of  the  reader,  he 
seemed  greatly  puzzled. 

The  reading  ended,  the  schoolmaster  sat  in 
silence  for  some  minutes,  then  asked, 

"  Who  taught  you  to  read,  dear  child  ?  " 

Winnie  was  abashed  and  confused,  but  finally 
answered  —  "  Ma'am." 


9O    ANOTHER  STRANGER  AT  THE  CABIN. 

"  I  teached  her  the  letters,  then  she  went  to 
school  down  b'low  a  spell ;  but  she's  teached  her- 
self more'n  anybody,"  interposed  Debby. 

When  Catamount  had  gone,  the  schoolmaster 
asked  with  evident  concern,  if  there  were  many 
savages  around  there. 

"  No ;  there  hain't  any/'  replied  Than.  "  Cata- 
mount's all  the  one  there  is  of  his  tribe,  and  he 
lives  miles  from  here — nigh  the  Winnipesockee, 
somewhere.  Caleb's  been  to  his  wigwam,  but 
there  hain't  none  of  the  rest  on  us." 

"  Caleb  ?     Is  he  that  sickly  pale  lad  ?  " 

"  Yis ;  but  he's'  nuff  sight  tougher  ne'r  you'd 
think  him." 

"Why,  I  took  him  for  an  invalid  whose  life 
was  doubtful." 

"  He's  allers  been  a  pale,  delicate  boy,"  said 
his  mother. 

"  We  come  drefful  nigh  losin'  him  last  spring, 
and  'ft  hadn't  been  for  Catamount  he  couldn't 
'a  lived,"  added  Than. 

"Catamount !  is  that  the  name  of  the  savage?" 

"  Yis ;  and  there  hain't  much  savage  'bout 
him  nuther,"  replied  Than. 

"So  I  judge  from  his  manner;  but  we're  ac- 


ANOTHER  STRANGER  AT  THE  CABIN.    9 1 

customed  to  call  all  of  his  race  savages  when  we 
know  that  under  the  preaching  and  labors  of  the 
great  and  good  Eliot  many  of  them  embraced 
Christianity.  Is  this  Catamount  one  of  the  Pen- 
acook  tribe,  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  Yis ;  that's  what  he  said  the  name  of  his 
tribe  was  ;  I  never  heerd  on't  afore/' 

"  They  were  a  powerful  tribe  once,  and  dwelt 
on  the  Merrimack,  and  planted  the  rich  intervale 
with  their  corn  and  beans.  Their  ancient  ene- 
mies were  the  Mohawks,  a  fierce  and  warlike 
tribe  in  the  centre  of  the  province  of  New  York. 
The  Penacooks  were  attacked  by  them,  and 
though  they  succeeded  in  beating  them  off,  after 
most  of  the  braves  had  fallen  on  both  sides, 
the  Penacooks  never  recovered  from  the  blow, 
nor  did  the  Mohawks  ever  become  as  powerful 
as  they  had  been.  Passaconaway  was  the  chief 
of  the  Penacooks  when  the  English  first  came. 
He  became  a  convert  under  the  preaching  of 
Eliot,  and  when  he  died  he  advised  his  people 
to  always  be  the  friends  of  the  English.  They 
remained  so  for  many  years,  and  King  Philip, 
with  all  his  art,  was  unable  to  induce  them  to 
join  him  and  the  rest  of  the  New  England  tribes, 


92    ANOTHER  STRANGER  AT  THE  CABIN. 

in  an  effort  to  crush  the  English.  But  a  fatality 
seemed  to  doom  all  the  tribes  of  New  England, 
and  events  over  which  human  foresight  could 
have  no  control,  finally  provoked  the  Penacooks 
to  hostility,  and  they,  too,  have  been  driven  from 
their  native  seats  and  hunting  grounds." 

"It's  tu  bad,  'f  they  was  all  like  Catamount," 
said  Than. 

"It's  the  nature  of  the  Indian  to  be  blood- 
thirsty and  cruel  when  he  thinks  himself  injured. 
The  Christian  spirit  is  little  cherished  by  most 
of  them/' 

"  Catamount  would  'a'  died  if  'ta'd'nt  'a'  been 
for  us.  One  of  the  coldest  nights  the  last  o' 
Feb'ry,  he  came  tu  us  eenamost  starved  tu 
death." 

"Then  he  repaid  your  generosity  by  saving 
your  boy  ? " 

"Yis,"  meekly  replied  Debby.  "It  was  a 
merciful  Providence  that  sent  him  tu  us." 

"The  merciful  shall  obtain  mercy,"  said  the 
schoomaster,  "and  in  blessing  others  we  often 
most  bless  ourselves." 

Some  years  after,  both  the  schoolmaster  and 
the  occupants  of  the  cabin,  it  may  be,  felt  the 


ANOTHER  STRANGER  AT  THE  CABIN.    93 

force  of  this  remark  more  directly  than  when 
spoken. 

The  next  morning  it  was  arranged  that  for  a 
time  the  schoolmaster  was  to  have  his  head- 
quarters at  the  cabin,  while  he  searched  out  the 
flora  of  the  surrounding  country,  even  to  the 
Winnipesockee. 

The  family  regarded  him  as  a  being  superior 
to  themselves,  so  wonderful  his  learning  and 
wisdom  appeared  to  them. 

To  Winnie  he  proved  a  great  blessing.  His 
interest  in  her  was  unbounded.  He  instructed 
her  in  the  science  of  botany,  and  thus  opened  to 
her  appreciative  mind  a  new  world  of  wonder, 
and  beauty,  and  interest. 

Botany,  on  the  Linnaean  system,  was  compar- 
atively a  new  science,  and  it  had  at  once  aroused 
an  intense  interest  in  scientific  minds  the  world 
over.  By  this  simple  system  of  classification,  it 
became  easy  to  reduce  the  entire  flora  of  the 
globe  to  the  grasp  and  comprehension  of  an 
ordinary  student.  This  science  found  nowhere 
a  more  devoted  and  enthusiastic  disciple  and 
explorer  than  Schoolmaster  Ordiorne.  Alone, 
with  a  supply  of  a  few  necessaries,  as  salt,  and  a 


94    ANOTHER  STRANGER  AT  THE  CABIN. 

few  other  things,  and  a  light  fowling  piece  to  aid 
in  procuring  game,  he  had  plunged  into  the  wil- 
derness, not  anticipating  finding  the  dwelling  of 
man  for  weeks,  when  he  came  suddenly  upon 
Than's  cabin. 

One  day  while  prosecuting  his  researches  on 
the  head  waters  of  the  Suncook,  he  found  him- 
self face  to  face  with  Catamount.  He  was  a 
little  startled  at  first  and  hardly  knew  how  to  ac- 
cost the  silent,  stoical  red  man.  Catamount  was 
the  first  to  speak,  however. 

"  Great  Medicine  Man  very  wise/'  was  his  sal- 
utation. 

"  The  Great  Father  in  Heaven  gives  all  his 
children  the  means  of  wisdom.  The  red  man 
has  one  kind,  and  the  white  man  another." 

Catamount  remained  silent  some  moments, 
then  said, — 

"  Great  Spirit  love  white  man  most/' 

"  God  is  no  respecter  of  persons,"  replied  the 
schoolmaster  ;  but  those  words  conveyed  little 
meaning  to  the  mind  of  the  Indian. 

Just  then  a  light  step  was  heard  approaching, 
and  presently  the  slight  form  and  pale  face  of 
Caleb  appeared  from  the  thicket.  The  unerring 


ANOTHER  STRANGER  AT  THE  CABIN.    95 

arrow  of  Catamount  had  brought  down  a  part- 
ridge while  on  the  wing,  and  he  had  brought  it, 
with  the  arrow  still  piercing  the  bird. 

"There,"  said  the  schoolmaster,  "that  is  the 
wisdom  of  the  red  man.  No  white  man  could 
have  brought  down  that  bird  with  an  arrow." 

"  Ingun  never  make  white  man's  gun,"  said 
Catamount. 

"True,"  said  the  schoolmaster,  "the  white 
man's  art  is  superior." 

"Will  Great  Medicine  Man  come  to  Ingun's 
lodge  ?  "  said  Catamount.  But  the  schoolmaster 
hesitated. 

"Come,"  urged  Caleb,  "and  ye'll  see  the 
strangest  place  ye  ever  seen.  We've  got  rab- 
bits and  fish  there,  and  plenty  for  dinner." 

The  Great  Medicine  Man  finally  consented, 
and  Catamount  led  the  way. 

They  followed  up  the  head  stream  of  the  Sun- 
cook  where  it  issues  from  the  most  singular 
gorge  in  the  Gunstock  range  of  mountains,  the 
most  noted  height  which  is  to-day  known  as  Mt. 
Belknap ;  here,  shut  in  by  precipitous  mountain 
walls  on  three  sides,  the  two  lateral  ones  ap- 
proaching within  a  short  distance  of  each  other 


96          ANOTHER   STRANGER   AT    THE    CABIN. 

to  the  eastward,  where  is  the  gate  or  entrance. 
Proceeding  up  a  gentle  ascent  for  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  or  so,  the  traveller  comes  to  a  comparatively 
level  open  space  covering  several  acres,  which 
appears  entirely  shut  in  by  precipices  that  only 
a  bird  can  fly  over  or  some  nimble  wild  animal 
could  scale. 

In  the  middle  of  this  singular  space,  from  be- 
neath an  immense  rock,  bubbles  up,  clear  and 
beautiful,  the  very  head  spring  of  the  Suncook, 
and,  at  a  little  distance,  in  the  shadow  of  a  clump 
of  firs,  stood  the  wigwam  of  Catamount.  The 
location  was  admirably  chosen  for  secrecy,  safety 
and  protection  from  the  fierce  blasts  of  winter. 

The  schoolmaster  was  no  stranger  to  forest 
cooking.  A  fire  was  soon  under  way,  and  when 
a  bed  of  glowing  hot  coals  had  been  produced, 
the  game  and  fish,  previously  prepared,  were  laid 
upon  it,  and  a  dinner,  by  no  means  unpalatable, 
was  served.  After  dinner,  as  the  schoolmaster 
was  anxious  to  gain  a  view  of  the  Winnipesockee 
Lake,  Catamount  led  the  way  toward  one  side  of 
the  precipitous  enclosure  which,  to  all  appearance, 
was  a  bare  perpendicular  wall  of  solid  rock  with 
beetling  cliffs  above,  from  which,  loosened  by  the 


ANOTHER  STRANGER  AT  THE  CABIN.    Q/ 

frosts  and  rains,  huge  masses  of  rocks  had,  in 
times  past,  fallen.  When  near  the  wall,  the  In- 
dian turned,  keeping  along  in  an  open  space  by 
it,  to  where  it  formed  an  angle  with  the  side  to 
the  west,  and  here  were  found  steps  formed  by 
nature  ;  not  very  regular,  or  easy  of  ascent,  but 
still  affording  the  means,  without  great  effort, 
of  ascent  to  the  summit. 

From  there  to  the  top  of  Mt.  Belknap  the 
way  is  comparatively  easy.  There  the  view 
presented  was  sufficient  to  draw  from  the 
schoolmaster  an  exclamation  of  surprise  and 
admiration. 

"  Oh  !  what  beauty,  what  mystery,  what  won- 
der," said  he,  running  his  eye  over  the  island- 
dotted  lake,  the  sky-piercing  peaks  of  the  White 
Mountains  beyond,  and  the  wide  and  varied  pros- 
pect on  every  side. 

It  is  indeed  a  wonderful  sight  to  stand  on 
that  lofty  summit  and  look  northward  where 
nothing  seems  visible  but  mountain  peaks  in  the 
most  promiscuous  confusion.  It  is  as  though 
the  materials  of  which  they  are  composed  were 
liquid  like  the  sea,  and  when  thrown  into  the 
wildest  and  most  fearful  commotion,  had  been 


98    ANOTHER  STRANGER  AT  THE  CABIN. 

instantly  congealed  into  flint  and  granite,  never 
more  to  subside. 

The  Winnipesockee  laves  the  very  base  of  Mt. 
Belknap,  and  many  of  its  fairy  isles  seem  to  be 
almost  within  a  pebble's  throw  of  the  beholder. 
Red  Mountain,  and  the  Sandwich,  and  Wolfe- 
borough  mountains  crowd  around  the  wonderful 
lake  as  if  to  watch  over  and  protect  it.  One 
flinty  spire,  the  grand  Chocorua,  rises  in  solitary 
grandeur,  as  seen  from  Belknap,  on  the  outer 
verge  of  the  huddled  family  of  mountain  peaks. 

The  schoolmaster  stood  and  gazed  long  upon 
the  scene  before  him,  unmindful  of  the  long 
distance  that  stretched  between  him  and  the 
cabin,  until  reminded  by  Caleb,  who  offered  to 
be  his  guide  by  the  shortest  trail  home.  They 
left  Catamount  on  the  summit,  and  as  they 
passed  through  the  gate  of  the  gorge,  and  turned 
to  look  backward,  they  saw  him  still  standing 
as  they  had  left  him. 

With  untiring  interest  and  assiduity  the 
schoolmaster  roamed  and  searched  through  the 
wilderness  around  the  Winnipesockee,  usually 
returning  at  night  to  the  cabin,  but  occasionally 
remaining  away  for  two  or  three  days. 


ANOTHER  STRANGER  AT  THE  CABIN.    99 

His  interest  was  not  confined  altogether  to 
plants  ;  birds,  insects,  and  other  objects  of  ani- 
mated nature  shared  his  attention  and  study.  In 
these  he  also  interested  Winnie,  who  had  always 
manifested  a  love  for  the  birds,  but  was  inclined 
to  shun  as  offensive,  beetles,  bugs,  spiders  and 
insects  as  devoid  of  interest,  if  not  dangerous. 
But  he  soon  showed  to  her  that  nothing  that 
is  the  handiwork  of  the  Creator,  is  lacking  in 
interest,  but,  on  the  contrary,  is  a  means  of  im- 
provement, when  rightly  examined  and  studied. 

The  revelations  disclosed  by  the  use  of  a  com- 
mon magnifying-glass,  such  as  the  schoolmaster 
had  always  ready  at  hand,  were  marvellous  to 
her.  Nor  were  the  instructions  of  the  school- 
master confined  to  the  natural  sciences.  He 
taught  her  the  proper  use  of  language,  and  gave 
her  lessons  in  grammar,  geography  and  writing. 
With  this  help,  she  made  great  advancement,  and 
when,  at  the  approach  of  autumn,  he  left  the 
cabin,  he  pronounced  her  proficient  in  all. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  AFFAIRS  OF  THE  PROVINCE. 

IT  will  become  necessary  soon  to  leave  the 
thread  of  our  story  for  a  short  time,  to 
refer  to  the  public  affairs  of  the  province  of 
New  Hampshire,  in  order  to  explain  some  mat- 
ters with  which  the  principal  characters  of  our 
story,  humble  though  they  may  be,  are  connect- 
ed, and  we  may  as  well  do  so  now  as  at  any  time 
later. 

Gov..  Wentworth  was  a  progressive,  public- 
spirited  man,  in  everything  except  his  attachment 
to  royalty,  which  finally  wrought  his  disgrace 
and  ruin  in  the  eyes  of  his  countrymen.  But 
that  was  years  later,  and  has  no  connection  with 
our  narrative. 

When  he  came  to  the  Gubernatorial  Chair, 
which  was  quite  a  surprise  to  him,  he  was  a 
young  gentleman  of  superior  ability,  fine  per- 
sonal appearance  and  pleasing  address,  and  suc- 
ceeded a  gouty,  fussy  and  pretentious  old  uncle 

100 


THE  AFFAIRS  OF  THE  : PROVINCE,    •!&( 

who  had  outlived  his  usefulness.  He  had  been 
a  man  of  ability,  and  had  done  many  things  pleas- 
ing to  royalty  in  his  earlier  years,  which  explains 
why  he  was  so  long  continued  in  office. 

The  young  Governor  found  that  some  things 
needed  reforming.  That  some  families  had  been 
long  honored  with  public  favors  to  the  exclusion 
of  others  more  worthy.  With  great  firmness, 
and  yet  with  discretion  and  judgment,  he  quietly 
reformed  abuses  so  far  as  lay  in  his  power. 
And  where  the  action  of  the  Legislature  was 
needed,  he  but  suggested  and  recommended 
what  seemed  judicious  changes. 

Some  things  that  were  well  enough  in  the 
early  days  of  the  province,  were  outgrown  and 
needed  remodeling.  The  Judiciary  was  one  of 
these. 

Any  change  in  the  system  had  to  be  brought 
about  by  the  legislative  authority,  but,  when  that 
was  done,  those  that  were  to  fill  the  new  offices 
were  to  be  appointed  by  the  Governor.  He  was 
aware  that  many  of  the  justices  under  the  old 
system  had  shown  themselves  men  of  judicial 
capacity,  and  for  this,  and  their  experience,  these 
were  re-appointed,  while  others  less  worthy  were 


IQs     THZ  AFFAIRS  OF  THE  PROVINCE. 

left  off.  One  of  these,  by  the  name  of  Livius,  to 
repay  the  Governor  for  his  action,  went  to  Eng- 
land and  presented  a  petition  to  the  king,  for  the 
removal  of  Gov.  Wentworth  from  office,  filing, 
with  his  petition,  a  long  list  of  charges  against 
him ;  the  most  of  them  being  for  partiality  and 
unjust  discrimination  in  the  management  of  af- 
fairs in  the  province. 

No  man  does  everything  just  right,  and  Gov. 
Wentworth  may  not  have  been  an  exception  to 
the  rule.  There  were,  doubtless,  some  few  in- 
stances in  which  he  may  have  been  amenable 
to  the  modern  charge  of  nepotism,  and  special 
regard  to  family  interests.  However  that  may 
be,  his  adversary  had  the  skill  and  adroitness  to 
give  the  Governor  much  uneasiness,  to  say  the 
least,  and  at  the  prior  examination  of  the  case 
before  the  Lords  of  Trade  and  Navigation,  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  a  report  adverse  to  him.  It 
was  then  taken  before  the  King  in  council,  but 
a  hearing  upon  it  was  delayed  for  other  and 
more  pressing  business,  for  a  time,  to  the  great 
annoyance  of  the  Governor  and  his  friends. 

When  the  case  was  heard  upon  its  merits, 
the  Governor  was  fully  exculpated  from  every 


THE    AFFAIRS    OF    THE    PROVINCE.  IO3 

charge,  and  even  complimented  for  the  effi- 
ciency and  loyalty  of  his  administration. 

Great  was  the  rejoicing  throughout  the  prov- 
ince at  the  result  of  the  investigation,  and  when 
the  Legislature  met  at  Portsmouth,  they  at  once 
sent  a  congratulatory  message  to  the  Governor, 
on  the  just  and  happy  issue  of  the  charges 
against  him. 

Immediately  after,  the  town  of  Portsmouth 
made  a  great  reception  for  the  Governor,  and 
gave  a  ball  at  which  all  the  notable  people  of  the 
province  were  present. 

The  Governor  then  invited  the  members  of 
both  branches  of  the  Legislature,  and  many  of 
the  leading  men  of  the  province,  to  visit  him  at 
his  noble  estate  in  Wolfeborough,  on  the  Winni- 
pesockee,  the  following  summer. 

By  this  time  Portsmouth  had  become  an  im- 
portant commercial  town,  and  was  well  known  in 
mercantile  circles  in  all  the  countries  of  Europe, 
on  account  of  its  extensive  trade  in  lumber  and 
ship  timber. 

This  notoriety,  as  was  natural,  brought  together 
all  classes  of  people.  Many  trades  and  manufac- 
tures were  represented,  notwithstanding  the  re- 


IO4     THE  AFFAIRS  OF  THE  PROVINCE. 

pressive  policy  adopted  by  the  mother  country, 
for  the  purpose  of  favoring  the  trades  and  man- 
ufactures of  England. 

One  of  the  great  crimes  of  that  period  was 
highway  robbery. 

Possibly  men  carried  more  money  on  their 
persons  at  that  day  of  few,  if  any  banks  in 
which  to  deposit  it,  and  every  man  of  known 
wealth  was  a  temptation  to  the  desperate  char- 
acters of  that  time,  and  highway  robbery,  though 
made  a  crime  punishable  with  death,  was  no 
very  uncommon  thing  around  all  large  towns 
where  men  of  wealth  resided,  and  Portsmouth 
was  one  of  these. 

Here,  too,  were  perpetrated  some  of  the  bold- 
est and  most  successful  robberies  known  in  the 
calendar  of  crime.  Men  were  met,  and  com- 
pelled to  save  their  lives  by  giving  up  their 
purses  and  gold  watches  almost  at  their  own 
doors,  and  the  culprit  would  calmly  walk  off 
with  his  booty,  and,  by  some  mysterious  means, 
disappear  and  escape  the  hue  and  cry  that  would 
be  immediately  raised  for  his  apprehension. 

Many  were  the  suspicions  that  Humphrey 
Dugan  had  a  hand  in  the  mischief.  The  system 


THE  AFFAIRS  OF  THE  PROVINCE.     10$ 

of  professional  detectives  had  not  then  been  de- 
veloped. Whoever  the  villain  was,  or  whether 
there  were  more  than  one,  or  whether  Dugan 
had  any  connection  with  it,  could  not,  for  a  long 
time,  be  ascertained. 

About  this  time  a  young  man,  between  twenty- 
five  and  thirty  years  of  age,  by  the  name  of  Harry 
Deerfoot,  of  intelligence  and  pleasing  address  and 
who  was  engaged  in  some  of  the  trades  in  Ports- 
mouth, seemed  to  have  heard  something  con- 
cerning the  somewhat  mysterious  disappearance 
of  Mr.  Longridge,  and  made  many  inquiries  as  to 
the  particulars  of  his  death  and  the  amount  of 
property  left  by  him.  Finally,  some  one  told 
him  that  Dugan,  who  had  come  into  possession 
of  Mr.  Longridge's  property,  could  tell  him  more 
about  it  than  anybody  else,  but,  for  a  time,  he 
seemed  disinclined  to  make  his  acquaintance, 
and  no  more  was  thought  of  the  matter. 

Young  Deerfoot  appeared  to  be  an  active,  en- 
terprising young  man,  with  business  occasion- 
ally in  Boston,  and  other  parts  of  the  country, 
where  he  was  often  met  by  people  who  knew 
him.  Being  of  agreeable  address  and  of  a  social 
turn,  he  easily  made  friends  and  acquaintances 


IO6     THE  AFFAIRS  OF  THE  PROVINCE. 

with  all  with  whom  he  came  in  contact.  Even 
with  countrymen  and  farmers,  and  with  their 
families,  he  could  make  himself  interesting  and 
companionable. 

Had  newspaper  correspondents  been  in  vogue 
at  that  time,  Harry  Deerfoot  would  have  made 
a  successful  one.  For  he  seemed  peculiarly 
adapted  to  it,  according  to  the  account  given  of 
him  in  the  chronicles  of  his  day.  He  had  the 
faculty  of  knowing  everybody,  and,  apparently, 
the  personal  history  of  everybody  he  met. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

IN    THE    CABIN. 

TO  go  back  now,  to  the  family  in  the  lone 
cottage  by  the  mountain  side.  We  have 
allowed  several  years  to  pass,  and  upon  our  re- 
turn we  find  that  great  changes  have  taken  place ; 
not  only  around  the  cabin,  but  within.  Instead 
of  a  narrow  opening  in  the  forest,  there  are 
broad  fields  and  enclosures,  —  cattle,  sheep,  and 
the  usual  surroundings  of  a  farmhouse. 

Jim  has  become  the  stout,  able-bodied  farm- 
hand ;  but  Caleb  is  still  a  slight,  spare  young 
man,  little  capable  of  manual  labor,  but  an  adept 
in  all  that  pertains  to  forest  life ;  as  tireless  as 
an  antelope,  and  as  keen-eyed  and  true  of  aim  as 
Catamount  himself,  who  never  throws  away  a 
shot,  or  loses  an  arrow.  Caleb  leaves  the  use 
of  the  bow  to  the  Indian  in  their  hunts.  The 
flint-lock  that  his  father  brought  with  him  into 
the  forest  was  somewhat  clumsy  and  heavy,  as 
107 


IO8  IN    THE   CABIN. 

were  all  the  guns  of  that  day,  but  it  was  sure  of 
fire,  and  true  to  the  aim. 

Time  had  wrought  no  greater  change  upon 
any  of  the  dwellers  in  the  cabin  than  upon  Win- 
nie. As  a  bud  of  promise  in  girlhood,  she  was 
beautiful,  but  the  opening  flower  of  maidenhood 
was  a  realization  of  more  than  the  promise.  In 
stature  she  was  of  medium  height,  but  grace  and 
beauty  combined  alike,  in  form  and  feature. 

For  three  successive  summers,  the  school- 
master had  spent  a  portion  of  his  time  at  the 
cabin.  His  interest  in  Winnie  knew  no  bounds, 
and  his  efforts  for  her  instruction  and  improve- 
ment in  every  accomplishment  known  to  him- 
self, were  unceasing.  Nor  was  his  intimacy  in 
the  family  without  its  softening  and  elevating 
effect  upon  the  entire  household. 

Than  and  Debby  were  among  the  happiest 
of  mortals.  One  sorrow,  that  of  the  death  of 
Uncle  Zeeb,  had  visited  them.  It  may  be  said 
that  he  died  of  a  broken  heart ;  for  the  loss  of 
his  darling  Lute,  who  had  been,  while  she  was 
with  him,  the  comfort  and  the  sunshine  of  his 
life.  The  love  of  a  father  for  a  loving  daughter, 
no  one  else  can  appreciate. 


IN    THE    CABIN.  ICXJ 

Uncle  Zeeb  often  said  that  if  he  could  only 
know  that  Lute  was  at  rest,  he  should  die  happy ; 
but  in  his  uncertainty  of  her  fate,  imagination 
would  be  busy  with  images  of  horror,  degreda- 
tion  and  wretchedness  worse  than  death,  and  in 
this  condition  he  died,  with  expressions  of  sor- 
row for  his  lost  darling  upon  his  lips. 

Humphrey  Dugan  meanwhile  seemed  to  enjoy 
worldly  prosperity.  Knowing  that  he  lived  in 
the  midst  of  a  public  who  looked  upon  him 
with  contempt,  he  steeled  himself  against  it,  and 
maintained  a  bold  independence,  his  companions 
being  those  who  were  dependent  upon  him,  and 
an  occasional  visitor  now  and  then,  unknown  to 
the  townspeople. 

To  this,  however,  there  was  one  exception. 
Harry  Deerfoot  disregarded  public  opinion,  and 
treated  Dugan  with  an  open,  generous  frankness, 
that  was  not  without  its  effect  upon  one  so 
shunned,  and  often  treated  with  open  scorn  and 
contempt.  He  invited  the  young  man  to  his 
house,  offered  him  every  hospitality,  and  thus 
met  with  an  agreeable  comrade. 

It  was  a  relief  to  Dugan  to  find  some  one  with 
whom  he  could  hold  companionship,  and  although 


HO  IN    THE    CABIN. 

his  guest  was  several  years  his  junior,  he  treated 
him  as  an  equal,  and  confided  to  him  many  of 
the  events  of  his  past  life ;  among  others  his  en- 
counter with  Than  at  Piscassick,  and  the  efforts 
he  had  made  to  search  out  his  whereabouts,  all 
of  which  had  thus  far  proved  unsuccessful. 

The  curiosity  of  young  Deerfoot  was  excited 
by  Dugan' s  story.  He  at  once  began  making 
inquiries  about  Clifford.  Dugan  had  told  him 
all  he  knew  about  him :  that  the  report  was,  that 
he  had  been  brought  to  Portsmouth  first  from 
some  place  on  the  Jersey  coast,  a  miserable  beg- 
gar ;  that  the  meddlesome  Gov.  Wentworth,  and 
others  like  him,  had  taken  pity  on  him,  and  got 
him  off  to  some  place  as  yet  out  of  his  reach. 

Dugan  was  getting  on  in  years.  He  had  ar- 
rived at  that  period  when  men  are  apt  to  be  gar- 
rulous, especially  with  those  younger  than  them- 
selves, and  the  caution,  taciturnity  and  prudence 
of  his  earlier  years  were,  in  a  measure,  laid  aside. 

But,  to  return  to  the  mountain  cabin,  from 
which  we  have  wandered  in  our  reflections  on 
the  death  of  Uncle  Zeeb. 

More  needs  to  be  said  in  relation  to  the  attach- 
ment of  Catamount  for  the  entire  family.  The 


IN    THE    CABIN.  Ill 

good  fellowship  that  existed  between  him  and 
Caleb  we  have  already  spoken  of,  as  well  as  the 
affection  he  manifested  for  the  boy,  whom  he 
called  by  a  name  which,  in  the  Indian  tongue, 
meant  sprite  or  ghost,  because  of  his  pale  face, 
and  his  slight,  agile  frame. 

They  were  not  always  together,  however,  nor 
was  Caleb  constantly  abroad  in  the  forest. 
Sometimes  days  would  pass,  especially  in  mid- 
summer, without  a  call  from  Catamount. 

They  had  a  signal,  which  could  be  heard  at  a 
great  distance.  It  was  a  hoot  like  the  owl ;  but 
Caleb  could  detect  Catamount's  call  even  though 
a  dozen  owls  were  hoot-tooting  at  the  same  mo- 
ment. By  the  signal  he  would  know  if  he  was 
wanted  then  or  at  some  other  time,  also  the 
place  of  meeting. 

On  a  still,  quiet  summer's  eve,  although  the 
sound  was  heard  by  no  one  else,  Caleb  would 
hurry  to  the  sounding  rock  —  a  precipitous  ledge 
in  the  forest,  against  which  the  distant  sound 
seemed  to  gather  or  impinge,  and  from  which  he 
could  return  the  answering  signal.  From  the 
farther  side  of  the  Suncook,  nearly  two  miles 
away,  the  call  of  Catamount  could  be  heard,  and 


112  IN    THE    CABIN. 

from  where  he  stood,  Caleb's  answering  signal 
was  as  distinct. 

The  Indian's  admiration  for  Forest  Flower,  as 
he  continued  to  call  Winnie,  increased  as  she 
grew  in  years  and  loveliness.  The  Bible  had 
continued  to  be  her  only  classic,  but  the  school- 
master had  taught  her  to  discover  the  majesty 
and  beauty  of  the  poetry  of  the  Psalms,  the  deep 
pathos  and  sublime  passages  in  the  book  of  Job, 
and  the  grand  utterances  of  the  old  prophets. 
He  had  likewise  helped  to  improve  her  art  of 
reading,  which  was  pleasing  from  the  first,  and 
often  now,  as,  in  one  of  her  favorite  haunts, 
either  upon  the  lofty  perch  on  the  mountain 
side,  or  by  the  margin  of  the  brook,  whose  mur- 
mur made  a  fitting  accompaniment  to  her  voice, 
she  read  aloud  from  the  sacred  page,  upon  look- 
ing up  she  would  discover  Catamount,  motion- 
less as  a  statue,  listening  to  her  reading. 

Usually,  when  the  book  closed,  he  would  slip 
away  as  quietly  as  he  had  come,  but  of  late  he 
had  often  expressed  himself  in  this  manner: 

''Words  of  Great  Spirit  good.  Ingun  hear 
'um  in  his  heart.  The  voice  of  Forest  Flower 
carry  'um  there. " 


IN    THE    CABIN.  113 

In  which  instance  was  verified,  "  The  entrance 
of  Thy  Word  giveth  light." 

The  heart  of  Catamount,  which,  at  first,  he  had 
said  was  all  dark,  began  to  receive  the  light  of 
truth. 

Though  his  step  was  elastic,  and  noiseless  as 
the  tread  of  the  animal  whose  name  he  bore, 
there  were  traces  on  his  countenance,  when  in 
repose,  that  spoke  of  age.  His  frame  was  thin 
and  meagre,  enabling  him  to  move  about  with 
ease  and  even  agility,  but  it  was  not  the  ease 
and  agility  of  youth;  the  impress  of  time  was 
upon  him,  though  without  any  marked  distinct- 
ness. His  was  a  nature,  or  composition,  which 
held  all  its  powers  and  faculties,  as  it  were,  in 
unison :  not  one  of  which  seemed  to  fail  before 
another. 

Catamount's  treatment  of  Caleb  during  his 
alarming  illness  had  wrought  a  permanent  cure. 
Since  the  hour  of  his  recovery  he  had  not  known 
sickness  in  any  form,  and  his  power  of  endurance 
had  become  truly  wonderful.  Fleet  as  a  deer, 
agile  as  a  panther,  the  boy  seemed  now  like  one 
formed  and  constituted  for  the  chase  and  forest 
life. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 
THE  GOVERNOR'S  PARTY. 

THE  gathering  of  the  elite  of  the  province, 
at  the  home  of  Gov.  Wentworth,  on  the 
shore  of  the  Winnipesockee,  had  been  appointed 
to  take  place  on  the  first  of  July.  Great  prepa- 
rations were  made,  both  by  the  guests  and  the 
host.  The  Governor  enjoyed  the  society  of 
young  people,  and  his  invitation  included  not 
only  the  members  of  the  Legislature,  and  other 
gentlemen  with  whom  he  was  on  terms  of  inti- 
macy, and  their  wives,  but  the  young  ladies  and 
young  gentlemen  as  well. 

The  usual  route,  at  that  day,  was  by  the  way 
of  Dover,  Rochester,  and  thus  to  the  northerly 
side  of  the  lake.  But  a  dozen  or  so  of  young 
men  —  invited  guests  —  determined  upon  an  in- 
dependent way  of  travel  by  land  from  Durham, 
at  which  place  they  rendezvoused  for  a  start. 

Those  from  Portsmouth,  Newington  and 
Greenland  came  to  Durham  by  boats.  Here 
114 


THE  GOVERNOR'S  PARTY.  115 

they  provided  themselves  with  rations  for  a  two 
or  three  days*  tramp  through  the  wilderness  to 
what  is  now  Alton  Bay,  where  a  boat  was  fur- 
nished to  take  them  up  the  lake  to  Wolfeborough. 

They  were  disposed  to  make  the  journey  an 
easy  one,  providing  themselves  with  fish  and 
game  on  their  way,  to  help  out  the  supplies. 

It  was  toward  noon,  of  the  second  day  of  their 
start,  that  they  came  to  the  open  meadow  below 
the  cabin  —  not  far  from  where  the  brook  issues 
from  the  forest  as  it  rushes  from  the  heights 
above.  Here  they  made  a  halt :  and  while  some 
of  their  number  started  a  fire,  others  went  fish- 
ing along  the  stream,  while  others  still  dressed 
the  game  already  secured  —  the  fish,  the  game, 
and  the  contents  of  their  knapsacks  furnishing 
an  abundant  and  tempting  dinner. 

The  repast  over,  and  being  in  no  hurry  to  re- 
sume their  journey,  they  threw  themselves  upon 
the  thick  grass  under  the  shade  of  the  trees,  or 
sat  together  in  knots  of  two  or  three,  recounting 
their  adventures  and  speculating  on  the  future. 

Among  those  who  were  resting  in  the  shade 
by  the  side  of  the  brook,  was  a  young  gentleman 
of  somewhat  distinguished  appearance,  and  one, 


n6  THE  GOVERNOR'S  PARTY. 

too,  who  seemed  a  general  favorite  among  his 
companions. 

Growing  restive  and  uneasy,  one  of  them  said : 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Wentworth 
Hunking,  that  you  can't  keep  still  ? " 

"  It  seems  to  me  there  is  a  wonderful  charm 
in  the  murmur  of  this  brook,"  replied  the  young 
man. 

"There's  only  the  gurgling  and  splashing  like 
all  brooks.  What  of  that  ? " 

"  Perhaps  that's  all,  but  it  won't  let  me  sleep, 
or  rest,  so  I  sha'n't  try  any  longer.  I  thought  I 
was  a  trifle  weary  before  dinner,  but  now  I  am 
fresh  as  morning." 

"Well,  I  feel  nappish,  so  be  quiet." 

"  You  don't  feel  like  prefixing  an  s  to  it,  do 
you?" 

"  What !  and  make  it  snappish  ?  I  may,  if  you 
disturb  my  nap  much  longer." 

"Well,  go  to  sleep,  old  fellow,  and  Til  court 
the  companionship  of  this  beautiful  brook 
awhile." 

Saying  which,  Wentworth  Hunking  sprang 
lightly  to  his  feet,  and  a  moment  later  disap- 
peared in  the  forest.  He  walked  on,  following 


THE  GOVERNOR'S  PARTY.  117 

up  the  current  of  the  brook,  like  one  rapt  in 
thought,  pausing  now  and  then  to  watch  the 
dancing  water  that  seemed  to  him  like  a  thing 
of  real  life,  as  it  whirled,  and  gurgled,  and 
shouted,  leaping  from  declivity  to  declivity  on 
its  way  to  the  meadow.  Up,  and  up,  and  up  he 
went,  wondering  from  whence  could  come  so 
full  a  stream  from  such  an  elevation. 

At  length  he  gained  a  little  plateau,  and  think- 
ing he  had  wandered  far  enough,  was  about  to 
turn  back,  when,  from  a  little  thicket  a  short 
distance  above,  came  the  sound  of  a  low,  soft 
voice. 

At  first  he  could  distinguish  no  word,  only  an 
indistinct  humming,  as  of  one  lost  in  revery. 
This  ceased,  after  which  the  voice  floated  out  to 
him  in  a  clear,  sweet  song : 

What's  the  mystery  we  call  life  ? 

From  whence  comes  it,  whither  goes  ? 
Every  hour  with  blessings  rife, 

From  beginning  to  the  close. 

Sweet  is  the  life  with  goodness  crowned. 

Happy  is  the  heart  that  loves, 
Joy  compasses  the  earth  around, 

If  it's  mated  as  the  dove's. 


n8  THE  GOVERNOR'S  PARTY. 

All  my  life  is  sweetly  flowing ; 

Strangely  comes  the  thought  to  me  — 
Am  I  thus  through  life  a-going, 

Careless,  mateless,  ever  free  ? 

Somewhere,  somewhere,  now  there  may  be 
One  true  heart,  as  mine  that  sighs  — 

All  unresting,  seeking  for  me, 
Shall  I  ever  meet  his  eyes  ? 

"  God  is  love."    How  sweet  the  thought  is, 

Love  fulfils  the  law  of  life, 
Thus  from  Him  the  Spirit  caught  is, 

That  the  heart  with  love  makes  rife. 

Before  "  the  strain  gave  o'er,"  the  young  man 
had  regained  his  composure,  and,  going  to  the 
thicket  from  whence  the  song  proceeded,  he  cau- 
tiously drew  aside  the  thick  boughs  of  a  young 
hemlock,  and  there,  before  him,  was  presented  a 
vision  fairer  than  any  his  imagination  had  ever 
pictured. 

He  stood  fully  disclosed,  near  the  singer,  be- 
fore her  eye  caught  sight  of  him  as  she  had 
ceased  singing. 

She  had  so  often  found  Catamount  a  silent 
and  unlooked-for  attendant  upon  her  solitude, 
that  she  was  not  startled  at  the  presence  of  a 


WINNIE    BY    THK    BROOK. 


THE    GOVERNORS    PARTY. 


stranger,  neither  was  Wentworth  Hunking  one 
to  inspire  alarm  even  in  the  timid. 

At  sight  of  him,  however,  the  color  deepened 
on  her  sweet  face. 

"  I  pray  you,  pardon  me  for  this  seeming  in- 
trusion. I  could  not  choose  but  come.  The 
sound  of  your  voice  was  irresistible.  " 

"  I  little  thought  I  had  other  audience  than 
the  birds  and  the  trees/*  said  the  singer,  as 
the  startled  look  left  her  face. 

"  I  wish  I  might  hope  your  heart  is  in  sym- 
pathy with  the  words  of  your  song." 

"  If  you  are  as  noble  as  you  look  to  be,  per- 
haps I  might  be  willing  to  make  the  confession. 
I  am  certainly  disposed  to  pardon  what  you  call 
an  intrusion." 

"  I  thank  you,  and  bless  the  charm  which  this 
brook  seemed  to  possess  in  drawing  me  to  your 
retreat.  While  my  companions  are  resting  in 
the  valley  below,  I  have  strayed  hither.  But  is 
it  possible  that  your  home  is  in  this  wilderness  ?" 

"  Our  dwelling  is  but  a  little  way  above  here. 
Will  you  come  with  me  there  ?  You  will  be  a 
welcome  guest." 

"It  is  very  hard  to  decline,  but  I  must  not 


120  THE    GOVERNORS    PARTY. 

stay  now.  My  comrades  are  impatiently  signal- 
ling my  return,  and  I  ought  not  to  detain  them. 
We  are  on  our  way  to  Gov.  Wentworth's  at  Wolfe- 
borough  ;  he  is  my  uncle.  I  shall  return  at  the 
earliest  moment,  and  shall  hope  to  meet  you 
here  again,  if  that  meeting  will  give  you  the 
pleasure  it  will  me.'* 

"I  am  sure  it  will,"  said  Winnie  (for  the 
reader  knows  it  was  she),  with  a  maidenly  blush 
as  her  eyes  met  the  earnest  gaze  of  the  stranger. 

He  then  seized  her  hand,  and,  pressing  it  pas- 
sionately to  his  lips,  bade  her  "  Good-by  !  "  and 
rejoined  his  companions,  who  little  suspected 
the  cause  of  his  absence,  and  the  journey  was  at 
once  resumed. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

ALMOST   A    CALAMITY. 

REAT  was  the  enjoyment  of  the  Governor 
and  his  guests.  Amusement  was  fur- 
nished for  all,  and  those  advanced  in  years  found 
themselves  participating  with  real  zest,  in  the 
pleasures  of  their  early  youth. 

The  merry-making  lasted  several  days.  There 
were  among  the  company  those  who  had  not 
taken  part  in  the  pleasure  of  the  hunt  for  many 
years,  that  now  entered  into  the  sport  with  the 
abandon  of  youth.  Guns  and  fowling  pieces  of 
every  kind  were  brought  into  requisition,  and 
parties  of  two  and  three,  started  off  in  search  of 
the  game  the  woods  about  the  Governor's  res- 
idence were  known  to  contain,  while  others 
scoured  the  country  around  for  its  ponds  and 
streams  famous  then  as  now  for  the  speckled 
trout  and  the  perch. 

Let  us  follow  one  of  these  —  two  members  of 
the  Legislature,  and  a  leading  citizen  of  Ports- 


122  ALMOST    A    CALAMITY. 

mouth :  Messrs.  Weare  of  Hampton  Falls,  Mars- 
ton  of  Hampton,  and  Williams  of  Portsmouth. 
They  went  by  boat,  into  the  vicinity  of  Red 
Mountain.  Not  much  game  was  expected ;  they 
went  "for  the  sport  of  the  thing,"  and  agreed 
to  fire  at  almost  anything  they  saw  moving. 
At  separating,  they  thought  best  to  keep  within 
calling  distance,  lest  they  lose  their  way  in  the 
wilderness,  though,  with  the  bald  summits  of  the 
Sandwich  Mountains  on  one  hand,  and  of  Red 
Mountain  on  the  other,  there  was  little  danger 
of  that. 

They  had  gone  about  half  a  mile  or  more  from 
the  shore  of  the  lake  when  Mr.  Williams,  who 
had  pushed  on  in  advance  of  the  others,  see- 
ing some  object  moving  before  him,  pulled  up 
and  fired,  then  hurried  forward  to  secure  his 
game,  to  find  that  he  had  wounded  a  young  cub 
which  began  crying  piteously.  In  a  moment,  to 
his  horror,  the  old  mother  bear  came  rushing  to- 
ward him  from  a  thicket  near  by.  Being  tolera- 
bly nimble  of  foot,  he  ran,  pursued  by  the  angry 
brute.  His  purpose  was,  to  spring  into  a  tree 
and  get  beyond  her  reach,  but  she  was  too  spry 
for  him,  and,  in  his  attempt  to  elude  her,  his 


ALMOST   A    CALAMITY.  I2J 

foot  caught  in  a  bush  and  he  fell  heavily  to  the 
ground. 

The  enraged  beast  seemed  now  to  have  her 
victim  in  her  power,  when  a  shot  was  fired  from 
a  thicket  near  by.  The  comrades  of  Mr.  Williams 
were  still  at  a  distance,  but  as  he  had  called  for 
help,  they  were  hastening  toward  him  to  learn 
the  cause  of  his  alarm. 

The  shot  took  effect  upon  the  bear,  but  at  no 
vital  part,  and  though  for  a  moment  she  was  di- 
verted from  her  victim,  the  next  instant  she  was 
about  to  seize  upon  him  again,  when,  quick  as  a 
flash,  a  slight  figure  sprang  upon  her,  and  dealt 
her  a  heavy  blow  with  the  breech  of  his  gun, 
shattering  it  to  splinters. 

Leaving  Mr.  Williams,  the  bear  gave  chase  to 
her  new  assailant,  who,  with  the  agility  of  a  cat, 
and  the  fleetness  of  the  deer,  easily  eluded  her, 
and  while  provoking  her  to  pursue  him,  drew  her 
away  from  her  first,  victim.  For  several  min- 
utes he  amused  himself  by  doubling  about  and 
keeping  just  beyond  the  reach  of  his  enraged 
and  ferocious  pursuer,  till,  weakened  from  the 
effects  of  the  wounds  she  had  received,  and  the 
effort  to  reach  her  provoking  enemy,  the  bear 


124  ALMOST    A    CALAMITY. 

stopped.  Then  stepping  to  one  side,  the  young 
man  called  out, — 

"  Now,  Catamount,  finish  Jer,"  and  another 
shot  was  instantly  fired,  when  the  bear  rolled 
lifeless  to  the  ground. 

His  two  companions  had  now  arrived,  and, 
with  Mr.  Williams,  who,  though  stunned,  and  for 
the  moment  terror-stricken,  had  risen,  witnessed 
the  performance.  At  first  he  was  greatly  in 
doubt  if  his  deliverer  were  flesh  and  blood, 
so  fleet,  so  self-possessed  and  undaunted  did  he 
seem  to  be.  Paying  no  heed  to  the  dead  beast 
he  caught  the  young  man  in  his  arms  lest  he 
elude  him  likewise  and  prove  a  phantom. 

"Who  on  earth  are  you?"  he  asked,  "and 
did  you  come  from  the  clouds  or  spring  out  of 
the  earth  ?  " 

"  Narry  one,  nor  t'other,"  was  the  reply.  "  Cat- 
amount 'n  I  was  jest  tryin'  tu  git  sight  'o  the  old 
bear  when  you  shot  the  cub." 

"  Catamount !  Who  or  what  is  Catamount  ? 
Where  is  he?" 

"There,"  nodding  toward  where  the  Indian 
stood. 

"  What !  an  Indian,  eh  ?     I  didn't  know  there 


ALMOST    A    CALAMITY.  12$ 

were  any  in  these  parts."  And  so  said  both  of 
his  companions. 

"  Here  is  your  gun,"  said  Mr.  Weare  ;  "  you 
dropped  it  near  the  cub." 

"  Ah !  yes  ;  I  found  I  had  got  to  take  to  my 
heels  the  best  I  could.  Here,  young  man,  it  is 
yours,  and  here  is  a  piece  of  money  to  get  your 
own  repaired  beside."  And  Mr.  Williams  put 
into  the  hands  of  his  deliverer  a  gold  coin  of 
the  value  of  two  such  guns  as  was  his  when  new. 

"  Oh  ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  if  you  give  me  this  here 
harnsome  gun,  it'll  pay  for  the  old  'un  twice  — 
yis,  ten  times  over !  It's  the  harnsomest  piece  I 
ever  seen." 

"  Well,  young  man,  you  have  richly  earned  it, 
and  a  hundred  times  more.  You  can  use  the 
money  to  buy  powder,  balls  and  shot,  and  when 
that's  gone,  come  to  me  at  Portsmouth  and  you 
shall  have  as  much  more.  You  will  find  my 
name  in  silver  letters  on  the  gun." 

The  young  man  examined  the  fowling  piece 
carefully,  and  after  a  moment  read,  "  Israel  Wil- 
liams." 

"Why,"  said  he,  "my  dad  knows  him;  I've 
heernhim  speak  on  'im  a  good  many  times." 


126  ALMOST  A    CALAMITY. 

"Where  does  your  father  live  ?  " 

"  'Tother  side  the  Suncook." 

"  And  what  is  his  name  ?  " 

"  Than  Clifford." 

"Than  Clifford,"  repeated  Mr.  Williams. 
"  The  name  sounds  familiar,  but  I  don't  recall  it." 

Caleb  (for  it  was  none  other  than  he)  was  too 
much  interested  in  examining  his  prize  to  heed 
the  remarks  of  Mr.  Williams,  and  presently  he 
and  Catamount  took  leave  of  the  party. 

"  So  narrow  an  escape  and  so  wonderful  a 
deliverance  I  never  heard  of  before,"  exclaimed 
Mr.  Weare. 

"  Who  ever  met  so  singular  a  person  as  that 
young  fellow  ?  Why,  he  seemed  more  like  a 
phantom  than  a  human  being.  He  seemed 
hardly  to  touch  the  ground,  but  glided  like  a 
thing  of  air,  and  sported  with  the  ferocious 
brute  as  carelessly  as  though  she  had  been  some 
harmless  plaything,"  said  Mr.  Marston. 

"  Well,  I  shall  think  my  life  of  some  account 
in  the  world  after  such  an  interposition  of  Prov- 
idence in  my  behalf,"  said  Mr.  Williams. 

"  What  shall  we  do  with  our  game  ? "  asked 
Mr.  Weare. 


ALMOST   A    CALAMITY.  I2/ 

"Let  her  rot  where  she  lies,"  returned  Mr. 
Williams.  "  I  have  had  enough  of  her/' 

" Are  you  much  hurt?"  inquired  Mr.  Weare. 

"  I  was  stunned  by  the  fall,  and  that,  and  the 
terror  of  the  fright  quite  unmanned  me  for  the 
moment/'  replied  Mr.  Williams  as  they  started 
to  return  to  the  lake. 

His  appearance  showed  that  some  misfortune 
had  befallen  him,  and  at  dinner  he  related  his 
adventure  to  the  company. 

By  the  time  he  had  finished,  word  came  that 
something  of  importance  must  have  happened 
"below,"  for  a  boat  containing  two  men  was 
coming  up  the  lake  with  all  possible  speed. 
Great  anxiety  was  manifested  as  to  the  cause  of 
this. 

The  boat  landed.  One  of  the  men  was  the 
bearer  of  a  package  to  the  Governor. 

Hastily  running  his  eye  over  the  document, 
he  said  :  "  The  affairs  of  the  province  as  yet  are 
safe.  But/'  he  continued,  "there  is  more  mis- 
chief on  foot  from  our  bitter  enemy  Livius. 
He  is  striving  with  might  and  main  for  the  ap- 
pointment, by  the  King,  to  the  office  of  Chief 
Justice  of  New  Hampshire,  and  our  friends  in 


128  ALMOST   A    CALAMITY. 

England  wish  us  to  send  with  all  possible  de- 
spatch, remonstrances  to  his  appointment,  from 
the  Legislature  and  the  principal  men  of  the 
province." 

As  good  fortune  would  have  it,  some  one 
—  more  in  a  merry  mood  than  otherwise  —  had, 
when  the  Legislature  adjourned,  moved  to  meet 
at  the  residence  of  Gov.  Wentworth  in  Wolfe- 
borough,  and,  on  counting  up,  it  was  found  there 
were  present  sufficient  members  to  form  a 
quorum. 

A  remonstrance  in  proper  form  had  already 
been  drawn  up,  and  all  that  was  needful  now  was 
to  take  the  proper  steps  for  its  signing.  When 
this  was  done  the  Governor  said  : 

"  Three  days  hence,  a  vessel  will  sail  from 
Boston  for  England,  and  these  papers  must  be  in 
the  hands  of  a  bearer  of  despatches  on  board  that 
craft.  Whom  shall  we  send  ? " 

"  None  of  us  old  men/'  said  Mr.  Atkinson. 
"  It  needs  some  one  who  is  young  and  spry." 

"I  nominate  my  young  nephew,  Wentworth 
Hunking,"  said  the  Governor,  and  he  was  ap- 
pointed by  a  hearty  and  unanimous  vote. 

To  the  surprise  of  all,  he  received  the  appoint- 


ALMOST    A    CALAMITY.  1 29 

ment  with  reluctance,  and  would  have  peremp- 
torily declined  had  he  yielded  to  the  promptings 
of  his  own  heart.  The  reader  will  have  no  diffi- 
culty in  divining  the  cause,  although  none  pres- 
ent were  able  to  tell. 

In  almost  as  short  a  time  as  it  takes  to  write  it, 
Wentworth  Hunking  prepared  to  take  his  leave, 
and  stepped  into  the  light  craft  that  had  brought 
the  despatch.  Meanwhile,  the  two  men  had  been 
abundantly  feasted  while  preparations  were  in 
progress  for  their  return,  and,  as  the  lake  was 
smooth,  with  but  a  gentle  west  wind,  they  bent 
manfully  to  the  oars,  and  the  light  boat  soon 
shot  out  of  sight. 

The  sun  had  set,  and  twilight  was  settling 
down  over  lake  and  forest,  when  the  boat 
reached  the  southern,  or  rather,  eastern  point  of 
that  arm  of  the  lake  now  known  as  Alton  Bay. 
Here  horses  were  provided,  but  as  there  was 
a  little  delay  in  getting  them  in  readiness, 
young  Hunking  wandered  along  the  shore  of  the 
lake  until  he  came  to  a  large  bowlder ;  seating 
himself  thereon,  or  partially  leaning  against  it, 
something  touched  his  shoulder,  and,  looking 
round,  he  was  confronted  by  an  Indian.  Al- 


I3O  ALMOST   A    CALAMITY. 

though  he  was  a  young  man  of  courage,  this  sud- 
den apparition  startled  him. 

"  Does  the  heart  of  the  young  white  brave 
sigh  for  the  sight  of  Forest  Flower  by  the  run- 
ning brook  beyond  the  Suncook?"  was  quietly 
asked. 

"  Do  you  mean,"  — the  young  man  hesitated. 
"  I  do  not  even  know  her  name,"  he  exclaimed. 
"But  you  must  mean  her." 

"  Ingun  love  Forest  Flower.  He  was  near 
that  no  harm  come  to  her,  when  the  young  brave 
hear  her  voice,  and  go  to  her.  They  not  know 
Ingun  near  —  " 

"  Go  to  her,"  he  interrupted,  "and  tell  her 
that  cruel  Fate  sends  me  across  the  great  water, 
but  that  my  heart  is  with  her,  and  when  I  return, 
which  will  be  soon,  I  shall  hasten  to  her." 

He  had  given  his  message  none  too  soon,  for, 
scarcely  had  he  finished,  when  word  came  that 
the  horses  were  ready,  and,  turning  to  urge  the 
Indian  to  make  all  possible  haste,  he  found  he 
had  disappeared  as  suddenly  and  noiselessly  as 
he  had  come,  leaving  the  young  man  in  some 
doubt  as  to  whether  the  vision  had  been  real  or 
not. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

A    PLOT    FOR   REVENGE. 

THE  day  dawned  bright  and  clear.  The 
new,  mysterious  light  that  shone  upon  the 
sweet  face  of  Winnie  the  past  few  days  had  not 
been  unnoticed  by  the  inmates  of  the  cabin,  but 
it  was  not  commented  upon,  for  her  heart  was 
always  light,  and  she  so  often  discovered  some 
hidden  mystery  or  beauty  in  Nature  that  excited 
her  admiration  and  added  to  her  pleasure,  it  was 
not  to  be  wondered  at. 

Of  late  the  favorite  seat  at  eventide,  on  the 
mountain  side,  had  been  deserted,  and  she  had 
remained  by  the  brook  till  the  decline  of  the 
sun  gathered  dampness  in  the  forest. 

To-day,  having  early  discharged  her  duties, 
which  were  light,  in  the  household,  she  was  ear- 
lier than  was  her  wont  at  this  quiet  retreat,  and, 
could  an  unseen  observer  have  been  near,  it 
would  have  been  easy  to  detect  the  sign  of 
excitement  in  her  heaving  bosom,  and  the 


132  A    PLOT    FOR    REVENGE. 

heightened  color  on  her  fair  face.  Though  she 
did  not  altogether  anticipate  the  approach  of 
him  who  had  so  deeply  stirred  her  hitherto  un- 
moved heart,  the  bare  possibility  that  he  might 
come  sent  the  blood  surging  in  swifter  current 
through  her  veins,  and  gave  to  her  face  a  sweeter 
charm  than  it  usually  wore. 

Sitting  there,  she  became  impressed  with  the 
thought  that  some  one  was  near,  and,  turning 
her  head,  discovered  Catamount. 

"  The  heart  of  Forest  Flower  is  with  the 
young  white  brave  who  went  to  the  counsel  of 
the  Great  Sachems  on  the  Winnipesockee,"  said 
the  Indian. 

"  O,  Catamount !  do  you  know  him  ? "  she 
pleaded. 

"  'Um  talk  last  night  by  the  water,"  replied 
Catamount.  "  The  Great  Sachems,  at  their 
counsel,  have  sent  him  over  the  great  salt 
water,  but  his  heart  is  by  the  running  water 
where  he  met  Forest  Flower." 

"  How  did  you  know  him  ?  "  asked  Winnie. 

"  Him  near  when  the  young  brave  hear  the 
voice  of  Forest  Flower  by  the  running  water," 
was  the  answer. 


A    PLOT    FOR    REVENGE.  133 

"Then  you  know  it  all,"  said  Winnie,  blushing. 

"  Young  brave  very  great  among  the  Sachems 
of  the  Great  Council,  and  he  love  Forest  Flower 
great  much.  He  tell  Ingun  say  he  come  soon 
and  meet  Forest  Flower  again." 

"  O,  Catamount !  did  he  tell  you  so  ?  "  ex- 
claimed the  young  girl.  "  How  did  he  look  ? 
Is  he  not  noble  and  good  ?  "  she  continued  anx- 
iously. 

"  He  much  brave  and  good.  Forest  Flower 
can  give  her  heart  to  him.  He  make  great 
Sachem  when  many  snows  come  and  go.  He 
love  Great  Spirit,  too,  and  talk  with  Him." 

Winnie  pondered  his  words  a  moment,  then 
thought  to  question  Catamount  further,  but  he 
was  gone.  He  had  flashed  the  intelligence  upon 
her  and  disappeared,  as  in  the  case  of  the  young 
man. 

But  the  words  of  the  Indian  cheered  and  com- 
forted her.  The  absence  of  the  one  whom  her 
heart  followed,  would  be  long,  but  it  was  en- 
forced, and  he  too  looked  forward  to  a  meeting 
when  he  should  return.  This  thought  caused 
the  light  of  love  to  burn  brightly  in  her  heart. 
New  purposes  and  new  ambitions  were  born  at 


134  A    PLOT    FOR    REVENGE. 

this  hour.  She  was  no  longer  "  careless,  mate- 
less,  ever  free/'  as  her  song  had  it,  but  an- 
other's, and  he  hers !  What  sweeter,  purer 
thought  could  possess  a  maiden's  heart  ? 

As  the  days  glided  swiftly  by  the  prosperity 
of  the  cabin  continued  to  increase.  The  crops 
were  abundant.  Peace,  and  contentment,  and 
happiness,  were  the  lot  of  all. 

It  was  toward  sunset,  near  the  close  of  July ; 
there  were  indications  that  a  thunder  storm  of  un- 
common severity  was  imminent.  Than  and  Jim 
had  hurried  through  their  chores  and  were  about 
to  enter  the  cabin  to  escape  the  rain  which  had 
begun  to  fall  in  large  drops,  when  a  stranger 
hastily  approached  the  cabin  from  the  mountain 
side,  and  asked  for  shelter.  His  sudden  appear- 
ance, genteel  and  pleasing  address  —  as  if  he 
had  come  in  from  a  near  neighbor's  —  was  a  sur- 
prise to  all,  but  they  gave  him  a  ready  and  hearty 
welcome. 

This  stranger  was  none  other  than  Harry  Deer- 
foot,  who,  in  his  polite  and  affable  manner,  had  a 
pleasant  word  for  each  one  present.  Caleb  was 
absent  with  Catamount  ;  he  would  remain  away 
for  several  days.  Rumor  said,  that  some  of  the 


A    PLOT   FOR   REVENGE.  135 

Indian  tribes  to  the  North  and  East,  were  pre- 
paring to  go  on  the  war-path  against  the  English 
on  the  Eastern  frontier,  whose  encroachments 
had  greatly  provoked  them. 

When  Deerfoot  addressed  Winnie  he  showed 
some  embarrassment,  but  she  replied  with  ease 
and  grace  to  all  his  remarks.  Used  as  he  was 
to  the  ways  of  the  world,  and  having  an  acquaint- 
ance with  men  of  all  ranks,  he  could  not  conceal 
his  surprise  at  meeting  with  so  much  beauty  and 
selfpossession  in  this  lone  cabin. 

The  storm  proved  less  severe  than  was  antici- 
pated. It  had  spent  its  strength  before  it 
reached  the  mountain.  The  clouds  soon  cleared, 
and  the  sun  sank  to  rest  in  splendor,  leaving  huge 
folds  of  massive  clouds  behind,  gorgeous  with 
purple,  vermilion  and  gold.  A  sight  that  filled 
the  observers  at  the  cabin  with  admiration  as 
they  stepped  to  the  door  to  look  upon  its  splendor. 

As  the  beauty  of  the  sunset  faded,  Deerfoot 
began  to  look  around  and  admire  and  praise 
everything  he  saw,  and  it  was  not  long  before 
he  and  Than  were  engaged  in  conversation 
concerning  the  location,  and  Deerfoot  eagerly  in- 
quired how  it  was  that  he  had  made  his  home  so 


136  A    PLOT    FOR    REVENGE. 

far  in  advance  of  other  frontier  settlers,  where- 
upon he  received  a  full  history  of  the  entire 
matter. 

The  narrative  interested  his  visitor,  who  pro- 
ceeded to  draw  from  Than  a  full  account  of 
almost  everything  that  had  happened  during  his 
life.  No  mention  was  made  of  Winnie's  advent  in 
the  household,  however.  His  story  dated  from 
the  time  he  went  to  Portsmouth  from  "  the  Jar- 
sey  Shore." 

The  young  man  spent  the  night  at  the  cabin, 
giving  as  the  reason  for  his  being  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, that  he  had  lost  his  way  in  coming  from 
Durham  to  Epsom  ;  and,  that,  having  ascended 
the  mountain  to  find  out  his  position,  he  discov- 
ered the  cabin.  The  next  morning  he  seemed  in 
no  hurry  to  go  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  manifested 
a  disposition  to  become  better  acquainted  with 
Winnie.  She  was  social,  but  maintained  a  re- 
serve which  Deerfoot  was  unable  to  overcome. 
When  at  last  he  took  his  leave,  it  was  to  say  he 
expected  to  remain  for  a  few  days  at  his  uncle's 
in  Epsom,  and  begged  the  privilege  of  making 
another  visit  to  the  cabin,  which  was  cheerfully 
granted. 


A    PLOT    FOR    REVENGE.  137 

Jim  was  greatly  charmed  with  their  visitor. 
He  had  shared  his  room  with  him,  and  they  had 
talked  familiarly  about  the  affairs  of  the  family. 

Deerfoot's  stay  must  have  been  very  short  at 
Epsom,  if  indeed  he  went  there  at  all,  for  the 
day  after  leaving  the  cabin,  he  passed  the  even- 
ing at  the  house  of  Humphrey  Dugan.  Of  late 
he  had  become  a  frequent,  almost  a  constant  vis- 
tor  at  his  home.  An  intimacy  that  was  re- 
marked upon  had  sprung  up  between  them. 
Some  of  his  friends  chided  Deerfoot  for  so  often 
being  in  the  company  of  the  old  Kidnaper,  but  he 
only  laughed  and  shrugged  his  shoulders  at  their 
apprehensions. 

The  robberies  in  Portsmouth  and  vicinity  had 
become  rare,  and  the  perpetrator,  or  perpetra- 
tors, were  supposed  to  have  gone  elsewhere  to 
ply  their  art,  when  suddenly  the  town  was  star- 
tled by  one  of  the  most  daring  crimes  ever  re- 
corded. It  was  in  open  daylight,  and  in  sight 
of  his  own  door,  that  one  of  Portsmouth's  prom- 
inent men  was  stopped  by  a  masked  highway- 
man, and  compelled  to  give  up  a  well-filled  purse 
and  a  valuable  gold  watch.  The  town  was  at 
once  aroused,  and  a  search  instituted,  but  no 


138  A    PLOT    FOR   REVENGE. 

trace  of  the  offender  could  be  found.  Dugan 
could  not  be  accused  of  this,  for  it  was  well 
known  that  he  was  in  his  own  house  when  the 
deed  was  committed.  In  fact,  he  was  most 
active  in  seeking  to  bring  the  offender  to  justice. 

"  For,"  he  reasoned,  "  who  is  safe  even  in  his 
own  home,  if  this  can  be  done  in  broad  daylight  ? " 

Some  light  may  be  thrown  upon  the  matter  if 
we  give  an  account  of  an  interview  that  took 
place  between  Dugan  and  Deerfoot  after  his  re- 
turn from  the  cabin  of  Clifford. 

"  Where  do  you  suppose  I  spent  night  before 
last  ?  "  began  Deerfoot. 

"  Where  ?  How  can  I  guess  ?  "  was  the  care- 
less answer 

"  It  was  in  the  cabin  of  a  man  by  the  name  of 
Than  Clifford." 

"  Zounds,"  exclaimed  Dugan,  springing  to  his 
feet  in  his  surprise  and  excitement.  "  I've 
always  prayed  to  live  long  enough  to  have  re- 
venge on  him,  and  now  I'll  have  it.  Tell  me 
where  on  the  earth  he  is  !  " 

"  Oh  !  be  seated,  and  compose  yourself,"  said 
Deerfoot,  "you  cannot  reach  him  to-night ;  and 
if  you  could,  it  would  do  you  no  good." 


A    PLOT    FOR   REVENGE.  139 

"  Do  no  good  !  What  do  you  mean  ?  Do  you 
suppose  I  am  to  be  cheated  out  of  my  revenge 
after  having  waited  patiently  all  these  years  ?  If 
you  knew  Humphrey  Dugan  you  would  know 
better  than  that,"  he  replied  fiercely. 

"  I  have  no  such  idea,  but  there  are  some 
things  to  be  taken  into  account.  You  cannot 
go  to  his  house,  and  satisfy  yourself,  either  by 
shooting  him  or  assaulting  him  as  he  did  you." 

"  But  the  law !  the  law !  I  shall  let  the  law 
avenge  me." 

"  The  law  !  he  and  all  his  friends  would  laugh 
you  to  scorn  if  you  invoked  the  law  after  all  these 
years  ;  and  then,  public  sentiment  is,  and  will 
be,  on  his  side,  and  the  law  would  only  add  to 
your  abuse  and  provocation." 

"  What,  then,  am  I  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you  a  plan  that  will  put  him  into 
the  hands  of  the  law,  but  in  a  different  way  from 
what  you  propose.  If  it  can  be  made  to  appear 
that  he  is  a  confederate  with  the  one  who  is  per- 
petrating the  robberies  here,  the  law  will  quickly 
have  him  in  its  grasp." 

"  But  I  want  him  to  know  that  I  am  having 
my  revenge." 


140  A    PLOT    FOR    REVENGE. 

"  If  you  are  active  in  bringing  the  law  upon 
him  for  this,  he  will  know  quick  enough  what  it 
is  all  for." 

.   "  But  he  may  get  out  of  it  and  escape  punish- 
ment, in  that  way." 

"  How  can  he,  if  the  property  that  has  been 
taken  from  people  be  found  with  him  ? " 

"Well,  he  can't,  that's  certain." 

"  Now,  I  will  tell  you  of  something  more  that 
may  trouble  his  peace.  There  is  a  most  charm- 
ing girl  in  his  family  whom  he  calls  his  daugh- 
ter, but  I'll  bet  a  thousand  dollars  she  is  not ; 
but  she  is  as  dear  to  him  as  the  apple  of  his  eye, 
and  I  want  her.  Though  I  know  she  must  have 
a  heart  of  fire,  for  some  reason  which  I  cannot 
understand,  she  is  as  cold  as  ice  toward  me. 

"  Herein,  now,  is  a  further  means  of  revenge. 
You  have  had  some  experience  in  kidnaping, 
try  your  hand  again  on  this  girl  and  carry  her 
off  without  harming  her,  to  an  island  in  the  Win- 
nipesockee  Lake,  where  all  creation  can't  find  her, 
and  I  will  be  the  lucky  knight-errant  to  discover 
and  save  her,  and  in  this  way  I  can  gain  her  heart 
and  love." 

"  Can  all  this  be  done  ?  " 


A    PLOT    FOR    REVENGE.  14! 

"  With  perfect  ease.     Leave  it  to  me." 

"I'll  do  it." 

"  Only  put  the  matter  into  my  hands  and  let 
me  use  your  servants.  I  have  already  an  island 
selected,  and  the  means  of  reaching  it  in  safety 
and  secrecy.  It  will  be  easy  to  get  provisions 
there  without  exciting  suspicion,  and  let  your 
old  cook  and  that  shrivelled  one-eyed  servant  of 
yours  go  there  to  take  care  of  the  girl,  until  I 
make  my  appearance." 

"  Do  as  you  like  ;  they  are  at  your  service 
for  that  and  anything  else  to  carry  out  your 
plans.  An  ingenious  scheme  —  a  very  ingenious 
scheme,"  said  Dugan,  rubbing  his  hands  in  glee 
at  this  prospect  of  revenge. 

Deerfoot  left  the  house  of  Dugan  late  at  night. 
Shrugging  his  shoulders,  he  muttered  :  "  I'll  hang 
the  old  villain  with  his  own  rope.  He  shall  aid  me 
in  bringing  to  light  the  child  of  her  father  who 
shall,  after  she  is  mine,  claim  her  own  and  beggar 
him.  _  Won't  he  stare  when  he  sees  one  whom  he 
thinks  to  be  dead  ?  The  sight  of  Lute  will  sear 
his  eyeballs  and  doom  him  to  the  gallows." 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

THE   ARREST. 

TWO  or  three  weeks  later  still  the  town 
of  Portsmouth  was  thrown  into  a  fever  of 
excitement  by  the  report  that  the  place  of  con- 
cealment of  the  party  who  had  committed  the 
robberies,  or  their  confederates,  had  been  discov- 
ered. Every  one  was  eager  to  learn  the  details 
entire,  but  while  the  name  or  names  could  not 
be  obtained,  the  place  of  concealment  was  said 
to  be  miles  distant  in  some  secluded  spot  on  the 
frontier.  No  one  was  more  active  and  impatient 
in  urging  on  measures  for  bringing  the  criminals 
to  justice  than  Dugan. 

Search-warrants  were  issued,  and  the  officers 
of  the  law,  reinforced  by  a  strong  posse  of  men, 
among  these  Dugan  and  a  servant  of  his,  each 
well  mounted,  were  ready  to  do  duty. 

Than  and  Jim  were  busy  with  their  work  on  an 
early  day  in  August,  when  this  company  suddenly 
invaded  their  premises.  A  part  of  the  number 
142 


THE   ARREST.  143 

surrounded  them,  while  others  rushed  in  and 
ransacked  the  house.  Presently  Dugan's  ser- 
vant appeared,  holding  up  to  view  a  gold  watch 
and  a  box  of  jewels  which  he  had,  he  said,  found 
secreted  in  the  attic.  Other  things  were  discov- 
ered, among  them  a  purse  containing  a  small 
amount  of  gold  and  silver. 

Dugan  was  beside  himself  with  excitement. 

"  We've  found  the  villains  at  last,"  he  ex- 
claimed, as  Than  and  Jim  were  taken  into  cus- 
tody. They  were  scarcely  gone  before  three 
others  arrived,  who,  seizing  Winnie,  lifted  her 
upon  a  horse  and  rode  away.  Debby  begged 
them  to  take  her,  but  they  said  they  were  only 
sent  for  the  girl.  So,  crushed,  stunned,  and  in 
despair,  she  stood  there,  the  picture  of  terror 
and  wretchedness.  What  had  befallen  her? 
Had  hers  been  an  earthly  hope  and  reliance, 
reason  would  have  forsaken  her  as  she  stood 
thus  deserted. 

"  O  God  !  "  she  cried  at  last,  as  she  fell  upon 
her  knees,  "  have  mercy.  Oh  !  sustain  me  in 
this  awful  hour.  Forgive  me  that  my  faith  has 
nearly  failed  me.  Can  it  be  that  '#// things  work 
together  for  good  to  them  that  love  Thee  ?  '  It 


144  THE  ARREST; 

is  Thy  word,  and  I  know  Thy  word  never,  never, 
never  fails.  Oh  !  blessed,  blessed  faith  and  hope, 
come  back  to  my  heart.  O,  Lord !  defend  and 
sustain  dear,  dear  Winnie.  Oh  !  save  her  from 
harm.  Is  she  not  a  sweet,  pure  and  holy  child  ? 

"  Yes,  yes,"  she  murmured,  rising  from  her 
knees  comforted,  and,  in  a  measure,  calm,  "  we 
are  all  in  the  hands  of  a  loving  Father  who  does 
all  things  well.  No  murmur  shall  escape  my 
lips.  I  have  seen  His  mercy  too  often  and  too 
clear  to  doubt  it  now. 

"  Caleb,  O  yes  !  I  have  a  comfort  left  —  Caleb 
is  safe.  Oh  !  when  will  he  come  ?  " 

For  several  weeks  he  and  Catamount  had  been, 
most  of  the  time,  absent ;  sometimes  on  the  con- 
fines of  Canada,  and  sometimes  in  the  deep  wil- 
derness of  Maine,  watching  the  movements  of  the 
Indian  tribes  preparing  to  go  on  the  war-path. 

The  day  following  the  arrests,  a  heavy  rain  set 
in,  continuing  far  into  the  night.  Toward  even- 
ing, the  next  day,  Caleb  returned. 

"  Oh  !  "  he  exclaimed,  upon  learning  the  sad 
story,  "  if  Catamount  was  only  here." 

With  little  hope  of  reaching  the  ear  of  the 
Indian,  after  nightfall,  and  when  all  was  still,  he 


THE    ARREST.  145 

left  the  cabin  and  went  to  Sounding  Rock. 
With  all  his  strength  he  sent  the  signal  call  into 
the  silent  valley.  He  listened  ;  there  was  no  re- 
turn. He  tried  again,  and  listened,  when,  to  his 
great  joy,  faintly  came  an  answering  note,  and 
before  midnight  Catamount  entered  the  cabin. 

"  Caleb,"  said  his  mother  next  morning, 
"  what  will  you  do  ?  That  awful  Dugan  will  take 
you  tu,  if  he  knows  who  ye  are.'* 

"  I'll  tell  ye,  mother,  I'll  go  tu  the  man  that 
gin  me  the  gun,  Mr.  Williams.  He  told  me  tu 
come  tu  him  if  I  ever  wanted  anything." 

"Wai,  ye  can  du  that,  sure  'nough." 

"  Father  'n  Jim  I  hain't  no  fear  'bout ;  but 
who  knows  what'll  'come  of  Winnie.  O,  dear 
mother !  I'd  rather  die  than  have  any  evil  come 
to  her." 

"  The  Lord  will  d'fend  and  pr'tect  her,  Caleb. 
Nobody  can  du  her  harm ;  the  very  sight  of  her 
would  disarm  a  monster." 

That  day  at  evening  Caleb  was  at  the  door  of 
Mr.  Williams'  mansion.  It  was  opened  by  a 
colored  servant. 

"  I  wants  to  see  Mr.  Williams,"  said  Caleb. 

"  You  !  "  said  the  servant  incredulously. 


146  THE   ARREST. 

"Yes  ;  I  want  tu  see  him  right  away." 

"Wai,  he  don't  want  to  see  you,  I  can  tell 
you  that  myself,"  said  the  servant  pompously, 
and  was  about  to  close  the  door  when  Mr.  Wil- 
liams, who  had  fortunately  heard  himself  asked 
for,  stepped  forward  and  severely  reprimanded 
his  servant  for  his  incivility.  When  he  recog- 
nized Caleb  he  grasped  him  with  both  hands 
and  almost  bore  him  bodily  into  his  handsome 
library.  Seeing  his  face  by  the  light  he  said  : 

"  You  are  in  trouble,  young  man.  Tell  me, 
how  can  I  help  you." 

"Dad  Jn  Jim's  took,  and  Winnie's  carried  off. 
I  hain't  no  fear  'bout  dad  'n  Jim,  but  'bout  Win- 
nie." 

"Who  is  your  dad?" 

"Than  Clifford." 

"  Than  Clifford.  Yes ;  I  remember  you  told 
me  so  up  there  in  the  woods  when  you  saved 
my  life.  You  say  there  taken :  what  do  you 
mean  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  only  a  lot  of  men,  ma'am  says, 
come  and  rushed  into  the  house  and  said  they'd 
found  a  gold  watch  and  a  pus  of  money  — " 

"  O,  ho  !     I  know  what  you  mean  now.     They 


THE   ARREST.  147 

are  —  well,  how  is  this  ?  Let  me  see  —  Than 
Clifford  !  That  name  is  certainly  familiar. " 

"  Don't  ye  'member  'bout  that  ere  time  when 
dad  took  keer  o'  your  lumber  up  t'  'Scassic  and 
gin  Dugan  that  —  " 

"  Ah !  there,  now,  I  have  it ;  and  Dugan  has 
been  very  forward  in  this  business  of  catching 
rogues.  I  see  through  it  all  now.  The  scamp ! " 
he  exclaimed.  "  But  what  about  the  girl  —  Win- 
nie, did  you  say  ?  " 

"  Yis;  three  men  come  and  took  her'n  carried 
her  off  on  a  hoss,  ma'am  said.  Catamount  'n  I 
was  off  on  the  Aroostick  watching  the  strange 
[hostile]  Inguns  there  and  didn't  git  home  till  tu 
days  arter." 

"I  have  heard  nothing  of  any  but  the  two 
men.  Who,  besides  your  father  ?  " 

"Jim;  ye  know  he's  Uncle  Zeeb's  son  that's 
dead." 

"  Worse  and  worse  for  the  old  Kidnaper.  I 
dare  say  it  is  he  that  has  had  a  hand  in  taking 
the  girl.  Is  she  your  sister  ?  " 

"  Yis ;  and  she's  the  handsomest  bein'  anybody 
ever  sot  eyes  on." 

"The  more's  the  pity,"   said   Mr.    Williams, 


148  THE    ARREST. 

musing,  and  looking  sober.  "Here  'tis,  dark 
now,  and  nothing  can  be  done  till  morning. 
You  must  have  some  supper  and  stay  here  to- 
night." 

"  No  ;  I  must  stay  with  Catamount." 

"But  have  him  come  too.  I  insist  upon  it. 
Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  He's  round  somewhere,  but  I  can  soon  git 
him." 

"  Well,  do  so,"  and  as  he  spoke  Mr.  Williams 
summoned  a  servant.  "Tell  the  cook  to  get 
supper  for  two  ;  the  best  the  house  affords  — 
plenty  of  meat.  Tell  her  to  do  it  speedily  as 
possible." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Now  —  let  me  see,  your  name  is  — ' 

"  Caleb." 

"  Yes  ;  well,  Caleb,  have  Catamount  here  with 
you,  by  all  means.  Don't  fail  now,  for  I  want 
to  see  him." 

The  call  of  Caleb  soon  brought  the  Indian, 
who  hesitated  when  invited  to  enter  the  "big 
wigwam,"  but  at  last  consented  and  followed 
Caleb  into  the  luxurious  apartments,  where,  at 
first,  he  felt  ill  at  ease,  but  Mr.  Williams,  who 


THE   ARREST.  149 

was  well  acquainted  with  the  habits  of  the  na- 
tives, made  arrangements  accordingly. 

While  the  two  were  at  supper  he  hurried  out 
to  consult  with  the  king's  attorney,  who  had 
been  led  to  suppose  he  had  real  criminals  on  his 
hands,  and  to  get  two  or  three  others  to  come 
with  him  to  his  house  for  consultation.  On  in- 
quiry he  found  that  the  officers  who  had  made  the 
arrests,  knew  nothing  of  the  taking  of  Winnie. 
That,  he  was  confident,  was  the  act  of  persons 
employed  by  Dugan  out  of  malice  to  Clifford. 

Caleb  and  Catamount  were  urged  to  spend 
the  night  at  Mr.  Williams',  but  the  former  said  : 

"  No  ;  Catamount  'n  I  are  used  tu  sleepin'  in 
the  woods,  and  we  must  go  back  toward  the 
cabin's  fur's  we  can,  and  git  there  airly  to-mor- 
row." 

"Caleb,"  said  Mr.  Williams,  "let  me  know 
when  you  find  your  sister,  if  you  do,  but  I  have 
great  fears.  You  and  the  Indian  can  find  her  if 
anybody  can.  Tell  no  one  you  have  been  here," 
he  cautioned  at  parting. 

The  consultation  that  took  place  at  the  home 
of  Mr.  Williams'  was  long  and  earnest.  It  was 
at  last  decided  to  let  no  suspicion  get  abroad  that 


ISO  THE   ARREST. 

the  prisoners  were  others  than  the  real  crimi- 
nals. One  thing  they  were  sure  of — the  property 
exhibited  as  found  at  Clifford's  cabin,  was  prop- 
erty which  the  adroit  villain  or  villains  had  taken 
from  the  person  of  citizens  of  Portsmouth  ;  and, 
another  thing  was  equally  certain  :  either  that 
Than  Clifford  was  guilty,  or  Dugan  had  some 
hand  in  the  robbery  or  in  receiving  what  had 
been  taken,  with  the  full  knowledge  of  it.  And, 
to  obtain  the  real  offender,  and  his  associate, 
was  the  purpose  to  be  accomplished ;  and  the 
manner  in  which  the  robberies  had  been  com- 
mitted, proved  to  these  men  that  it  was  no  tri- 
fling work  they  were  engaged  in. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE    SEARCH. 

and  Catamount  reached  the  cabin 
early  in  the  forenoon  after  leaving  Ports- 
mouth the  night  before.  The  tact  and  keenness 
of  an  Indian  in  following  a  trail,  where  even  the 
faintest  mark,  or  trace,  can  be  found,  is  well 
known,  and  to  follow  the  trail,  or  tracks  made 
by  the  horse  on  which  Winnie  had  been  borne 
off,  even  though  a  heavy  rain  had  since  oc- 
curred, would  seem  easy  enough. 

This  they  at  once  set  themselves  to  do.  The 
difficulty  for  a  time  lay  in  the  fact  that  many 
other  horses  had  been  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
cabin  the  same  day.  But  as  these  all  returned 
to  Portsmouth  except  the  one  which  bore  Win- 
nie, the  place  at  which  that  horse  turned  off  was 
to  be  looked  for.  Then  it  might  be  that,  after 
being  borne  on  the  horse  some  distance,  she 
might  have  been  taken  off  and  led  into  the  wil- 
derness, while  the  horse  kept  on. 


152  THE    SEARCH. 

All  these  suggestions  passed  through  the 
mind  of  Catamount,  for  having  been  shown  the 
place  where  the  horse  stood  when  Winnie  was 
placed  upon  it,  he  examined  long  and  carefully 
the  tracks  that  remained.  The  examination  was 
very  unsatisfactory.  The  severe  rain  had 
wholly  obliterated  any  distinctive  marks,  and 
they  must  trust  to  fortune  to  find  any  trace  of 
the  lost  one. 

The  day  was  spent  in  following  the  route  from 
the  cabin  to  the  vicinity  of  the  frontier  settle- 
ments, but  only  at  one  place  did  the  Indian 
pause  for  any  length  of  time.  To  this  place  he 
returned  next  morning  and  resumed  his  search. 
This  spot  was  on  the  north  side  of  the  track 
leading  "down  below."  Here  Winnie  might 
have  been  taken  from  the  horse  and  led  off  into 
the  trackless  forest,  or  the  trail  might  have  been 
made  by  wild  beasts,  or,  possibly,  a ..  solitary 
hunter,  or  forest  ranger. 

Catamount  after  another  examination  finally 
said  : 

"  'Urn  follow/'  holding  up  three  fingers. 
"  'Urn  go  here/'  meaning  that  three  persons  had 
passed  that  way.  That  would  be,  two  to  go  with 


THE    SEARCH.  153 

Winnie,  and  one  to  go  on  with  the  horse,  as  had 
been  anticipated  and  feared  might  be  the  fact. 
But  whither  could  these  villains  be  leading  their 
victim  ?  It  might  be  to  the  eastward,  or  it  might 
be  to  the  Winnipesockee. 

At  the  place  where  the  trail  struck  off  from 
the  travelled  track,  the  ground  was  favorable  for 
the  discovery  of  traces  of  it,  but  when  it  had 
been  followed  to  a  more  open  forest  on  high 
ground,  all  trace  disappeared.  Still,  by  taking  a 
zigzag  course,  hoping  to  strike  the  trail  again, 
the  Indian  continued  advancing  in  the  general 
direction  which  the  trail  had  indicated. 

About  noon  Caleb,  who  had  kept  on  the  search 
too,  and  within  call  of  Catamount,  gave  a  shout 
that  called  the  Indian  hastily  to  where  he  stood. 
There,  on  a  knoll,  on  the  top  of  which  was  an 
immense  bowlder  lying  on  the  top  of  the  ground, 
were  the  remains  of  a  recent  encampment.  One 
side  the  rock  was  shelving,  and  beneath  the  over- 
hanging part  was  a  thick  bed  of  freshly  gathered 
branches,  that  might  have  served  as  a  resting- 
place  for  one  person.  At  a  little  distance  off 
were  the  extinguished  brands  and  the  ashes  of 
a  recent  fire. 


I  54  THE    SEARCH. 

Around  here  it  could  be  seen  were  the  tracks 
of  two  persons,  who  were,  without  doubt,  the  ab- 
ductors of  Winnie,  and  the  bed  by  the  rock  was 
where  she  had  passed  the  night. 

From  here  again  the  trail  was  lost,  only  that 
at  long  distances,  Catamount  would  come  upon 
what  seemed  to  be  traces  of  it. 

He  kept  on  in  the  same  direction,  and  at  one 
place,  on  the  side  of  a  stream  which  he  exam- 
ined for  a  long  distance,  up  and  down,  until  he 
came  to  where  it  was  plain  some  one  had  crossed, 
he  said,  "  'Um  walk  woods  Canada." 

He  was  familiar  with  the  route  over  which,  in 
former  times,  the  hostile  Indians  were  accus- 
tomed to  lead  their  captives  taken  from  the 
frontier  settlements,  and  seemed  to  have  made 
up  his  mind  that  Wnnie  was  being  taken  there 
to  be  sold  to  the  French,  as  the  captives  had 
been  during,  the  Indian  wars,  not  realizing  that 
that  state  of  things  no  longer  existed  since 
Canada  had  come  under  the  power  of  Great 
Britain. 

He  now  pushed  forward  more  directly  and 
rapidly,  at  long  distances  finding  traces,  as  he 
supposed,  of  the  trail  of  the  fugitive.  In  this 


THE    SEARCH.  155 

way,  by  nightfall  they  had  passed  beyond  the 
easterly  point  of  the  lake.  There,  at  sunset,  they 
encamped  for  the  night.  At  that  hour  the  sky 
in  the  west  was  overcast,  and  at  midnight  a 
heavy  rain  set  in,  which  continued  till  long  after 
daylight.  By  an  ingenuity  which  only  those 
used  to  forest  life  are  accustomed  to,  these  two 
had  provided  against  the  threatened  tempest, 
and  having  gone  nearly  supperless  to  bed,  were 
compelled  to  find  means  to  meet  the  demands  of 
hunger  in  the  morning.  To  one  unused  to  the 
dripping  forest  after  a  pouring  rain,  the  prospect 
of  a  fire  and  a  breakfast  would  have  been  gloomy, 
especially  as  it  was  a  day  prior  to  the  advent  of 
friction  matches  and  canned  meats. 

However,  leaving  Caleb  to  provide  a  fire,  Cata- 
mount, with  bow  and  arrows  which  he  always 
carried,  as  well  as  his  gun,  set  off  for  game. 
Caleb  was  not  long  in  finding  the  trunk  of  a 
fallen  tree  which  had  lived  out  its  time  and  fal- 
len from  age.  The  trunk,  at  the  butt,  was  hol- 
low, and  the  inside  dry.  Drawing  the  charge 
carefully  from  his  silver-mounted  gun,  he  flashed 
the  powder  in  the  pan  against  some  light,  dry 
rubbish  he  had  gathered  inside  the  trunk  of  the 


156  THE    SEARCH. 

tree,  and  easily  started  a  fire  in  the  hollow  ;  and 
thus  the  trunk  itself  was  both  fireplace  and  fuel. 
Pine  cones  and  pine  branches  were  easily  gath- 
ered to  increase  the  blaze,  and  when  Catamount 
returned  with  two  rabbits  and  a  partridge,  their 
feast  was  assured.  Before  this  was  finished  the 
clouds  had  broken  away  and  the  sun  shot  his 
cheering  rays  into  the  high  arches  of  the  primi- 
tive forest. 

It  is  useless  to  follow  the  course  of  these  two 
in  their  search  for  the  loved  one.  The  reader  is 
already  aware  of  the  destination  of  the  abductors. 
Before  they  had  passed  beyond  the  eastern  bay 
of  the  lake,  they  turned  sharp  off  from  the  course 
they  had  pursued,  and,  following  down  a  narrow 
ravine,  made  their  way  to  the  shore  of  the  lake, 
where  a  boat  was  concealed  in  readiness  for  their 
use. 

How  the  abductors  knew  just  the  course  to 
take  to  come  upon  the  lake  where  the  boat  was 
concealed,  cannot  be  accounted  for,  unless  Deer- 
foot  himself,  unseen  by  Winnie,  directed  them 
on  their  route  in  person. 

It  was  a  relief  to  her  on  reaching  the  island 
in  the  lake,  to  find  one  of  her  own  sex,  though 


THE    SEARCH.  157 

old  and  repugnant.  But,  aside  from  this,  she 
found  little  comfort  or  consolation  in  her  pres- 
ence. She  begged  of  her  to  know  why  she  had 
been  brought  there,  but  the  old  woman  only 
shook  her  head,  with  a  wicked  twinkle  in  her 
sharp,  sunken  eye,  and  said  nothing. 

The  place  of  concealment  was  well  chosen. 
The  island  was  the  interior  of  a  cluster  of 
islands,  some  of  them  much  larger.  It  rose 
abruptly  from  the  water,  precipitous,  apparently, 
on  all  sides,  and  thickly  covered  all  round  the 
margin  with  shrubs  and  stunted  spruce  and  hem- 
lock-trees, while  the  centre  was  in  places  only  a 
bare  rock  with  thin  patches  of  grass  and  a  few 
stunted  oak  and  ash-trees  that  had  "  cast  anchor 
in  the  rifted  rocks." 

Precipitous  as  the  island  at  first  sight  ap- 
peared, there  were  several  places  in  the  ledgy 
wall  of  rocks  by  which  the  summit  of  it  could  be 
reached. 

The  place  of  shelter  or  residence  for  those 
upon  the  island  was  planned  and  constructed 
with  much  art,  and  not  wholly  devoid  of  taste. 
In  fact  there  were  several  small  structures.  One 
served  as  kitchen,  another  as  store-house,  and 


158  THE   SEARCH. 

the  main  structure  was  for  shelter,  with  several 
apartments,  or  divisions.  All  were  constructed 
with  poles  and  bark  and  branches  of  trees 
brought  to  the  island,  which  furnished  no  such 
material. 

The  view  was  limited  to  the  islands  around  it, 
with  the  exception  of  the  peaks  of  the  distant 
mountains.  Red,  White  Face,  and  one  or  two 
others,  could  be  distinctly  seen.  The  apartment 
occupied  by  Winnie  opened  to  the  west,  and  to 
shield  it  from  the  pouring  rays  of  the  hot  August 
sun,  a  sort  of  canopy  formed  of  the  bark  of  the 
white,  or  canoe-birch,  was  hung  over  the  en- 
trance. There  were  no  means  of  lighting  the 
room  when  the  door  was  closed,  save  from  a  small 
aperture  in  the  entrance-way.  This,  however, 
could  be  fastened  on  the  inside  by  the  occupant, 
which  Winnie  felt  was  a  great  security.  But 
why  was  she  taken  from  her  home  and  thus  se- 
creted ?  was  a  question  constantly  in  her  mind, 
and  one  that  weighed  heavily  upon  her  heart. 

Was  the  meeting  by  the  brookside  with  the 
comely  stranger,  which  had  awakened  such  sweet 
dreams  of  love  and  future  happiness,  to  be  to 
her  only  a  mockery  for  all  future  life  ?  Did  he 


THE    SEARCH.  159 

but  know  of  her  abduction,  she  believed  he  would 
come  to  her  rescue,  but,  alas  !  he  was  far  away 
over  the  sea,  and  when  he  should  return  to  the 
loved  spot  by  the  murmuring  brook  and  find  her 
long,  long  gone,  no  one  knowing  whither,  what 
would  he  do  ?  and  what,  then,  would  be  her  fate  ? 

The  day  passed,  and  so,  likewise,  did  the  night, 
in  perfect  peace.  Her  meals,  consisting  of 
choice  dishes  of  fish,  game,  and  bread  in  abun- 
dance, were  brought  by  the  old  woman  who  was 
strangely  reticent,  but  attentive  and  respectful, 
treating  her  as  she  might  a  princess  or  some  one 
of  equal  rank.  To  this,  however,  Winnie  had 
been  accustomed  always,  and  so  accepted  the 
favor  shown  her  without  embarrassment. 

And  so  the  days  passed  until  almost  a  week 
had  worn  away,  when,  one  day,  she  overheard 
voices  outside ;  some  one  was  speaking  in  a  tone 
of  command,  which  caused  Winnie's  heart  to 
sink  with  fear.  The  look  the  old  woman  had 
returned  to  her  first  question  was  vivid  in  her 
mind  now.  Presently  she  entered  the  apartment 
and  crouched  down  beside  the  door.  Pale  with 
fright,  Winnie  asked,  with  alarm,  — 

"  Who  !     What  is  it  ?     What  is  the  matter  ? " 


I6O  THE    SEARCH. 

"  We  are  found  out/'  whined  the  miserable  old 
creature.  "  Somebody's  come,  and  they  will  kill 
us  'cause  we've  got  you  here." 

The  heart  of  the  young  girl  gave  a  great  bound 
at  this.  Some  one  approached.  The  old  woman 
clutched  her  dress  as  she  started  to  meet  her 
deliverers. 

"  Oh  !  help  me  —  save  me  !  "  she  cried. 

"Fear  not,"  said  Winnie,  "you  shall  not  be 
hurt." 

At  that  instant  Deerfoot  strode  to  the  en- 
trance of  her  apartment. 

"  I  have  succeeded  at  last,"  he  exclaimed,  re- 
moving his  hat,  and  bowing  low.  "  Young  lady, 
I  had  met  you  but  once,  but  when  I  learned  that 
that  base  wretch,  Dugan,  out  of  spite  to  him  you 
call  father,  had  planned  and  executed  your  ab- 
duction, I  determined  not  to  eat  or  sleep  till  I 
had  rescued  you,  and  my  long  search  has  at  last 
been  crowned  with  success." 

"  O,  sir !  how  can  I  be  sufficiently  grateful  to 
you?" 

"  The  satisfaction  of  my  success,  and  the  hap- 
piness I  see  it  gives  you,  are  abundant  compen- 
sation for  all  I  have  done.  I  could  do  no  less. 


THE    SEARCH.  l6l 

My  heart  would  have  sustained  me,  had  the 
search  for  you  been  tenfold  more  arduous  and 
lasting." 

"  Are  any  of  my  friends  with  you  ?  " 

"  No.  The  infamous  Dugan  has  them  all  im- 
prisoned. You  and  I  alone  can  rescue  them." 

"  Oh  !  help  me  to  fly  to  them  at  once.  Oh  ! 
my  poor,  heart-broken  mother.  She  will  die. 
Take  me  to  her  before  it  is  too  late." 

"  Calm  your  anxiety  for  her.  She  is  safe,  and 
composed,  for  she  knows,  if  alive,  I  should  rescue 
you." 

"  Let  us  leave  here  this  instant,  that  I  may  go 
to  her." 

"  Had  I  the  strength  to-day,  it  should  be  done, 
but  my  long  anxiety,  fasting,  and  almost  sleep- 
lessness, have  taxed  my  powers  to  the  utmost. 
Will  you  grant  me  a  day  to  rest  ? " 

"  Most  ungrateful  in  me  it  would  be  did  I  not," 
said  Winnie  earnestly  and  heartily. 

"As  for  you,  old  woman,"  said  Deerfoot,  turn- 
ing to  the  cowering  form,  "  get  you  gone  from 
this  presence,  and  don't  let  your  shadow  fall 
here  only  as  you  are  ordered.  If  you  have  the 
means,  provide  me,  and  the  man  who  accompa- 


l62  THE    SEARCH. 

nies  me,  with  the  best  your  store  affords/'  he 
commanded. 

Upon  this  the  old  creature  hurried  off,  but 
there  was  no  look  of  terror  or  alarm  on  her  with- 
ered face,  which  impressed  Winnie  as  being 
somewhat  strange,  for  his  manner  and  tone  were 
tragically  fierce  and  severe. 

It  was  not  until  the  middle  of  the  afternoon 
of  the  next  day  that  Deerfoot  again  approached 
Winnie's  apartment,  when  he  saluted  her  with 
the  same  profound  respect  as  the  day  before. 

"  I  hope  you  find  yourself  recovered,"  was  her 
reply,  with  a  hopeful,  happy  look  and  tone. 

"  Very  greatly  improved,  but  suffering  still  the 
effects  of  my  long-continued  efforts  for  your  re- 
covery. But  that  is  of  no  account  —  a  mere 
trifle  compared  to  the  satisfaction  of  serving 
you." 

"  Oh !  you  must  not  think  so  lightly  of  your 
own  life  and  comfort." 

"  It  will  be  the  sweetest  comfort-  of  my  life 
that  I  can  serve  you,  and  minister  to  your  hap- 
piness." 

"I  ought  to  be  the  most  grateful  of  beings 
on  the  earth,  for  $uch  kindness." 


THE    SEARCH.  1 63 

"  Oh !  that  I  could  have  the  privilege  of 
spending  my  whole  life  in  your  service.  I  have 
wealth  almost  untold.  This  purse,  though 
crammed  with  gold,  is  but  a  bauble  to  me.  It 
is  yours,  and  all  I  have  I  lay  at  your  feet." 
Saying  this,  he  tossed  the  heavy  purse  to  the 
lap  of  Winnie. 

"  Oh  !  pardon  me/'  she  exclaimed  ;  "  I  can- 
not receive  it  —  I  cannot !  Please  take  it  back ! " 

"  Fling  it  into  the  lake,  then,"  said  Deerfoot, 
a  look  of  displeasure  flitting  over  his  really  at- 
tractive face.  "  I  have  parted  with  it,  will  not 
your  gratitude  induce  you  to  do  me  so  small  a 
favor  as  to  receive  it  ?  " 

"  I  certainly  am  not  ungrateful,  and  if  that  is 
your  view  of  my  act  I  will  accept  it  for  your 
sake." 

"  You  make  me  happy  in  so  doing.  I  have 
much  to  say  to  you,  but  will  take  my  leave  of 
you  now." 

"  Shall  we  not  leave  here  in  the  morning  ?  I 
am  so  anxious  to  return  to  my  once  happy  home." 

"  Were  it  safe  and  prudent,  I  would  fly  with 
you  thither  to-night,  but  we  must  await  the 
proper  time;  I  will  explain  all  to-morrow." 


164  THE    SEARCH. 

But,  fair  as  were  the  words  of  Deerfoot,  the 
quick,  womanly  perception  of  Winnie  convinced 
her  that  there  was  something  beneath  the  sur- 
face of  all  this  manifestation  of  devotion  and 
disinterestedness  more  to  be  feared  than  the 
presence  of  the  old  woman,  or,  perhaps,  of 
Dugan  himself.  Immediate  danger,  however, 
she  had  no  fear  of,  and  to  calm  the  beating  of 
her  disturbed  heart,  and  gather  strength  from 
communion  with  Heaven  beneath  the  stars, 
she  went  to  a  place  on  the  brink  of  the  island 
where  she  had  the  day  before  found  a  grateful 
seat. 

The  sighing  of  the  gentle  night  breeze  through 
the  firs,  and  the  soft  splash  of  the  ripples  on  the 
lake  around  the  rocky  base  of  the  island,  kept 
her  there  long  after  the  last  trace  of  daylight 
had  faded  from  the  western  sky. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

THE    DISCOVERY. 

WHO  can  imagine  the  increasing  agony 
that  gathered  in  the  heart  of  the 
mother,  and  of  those  who  kept  up  the  search  for 
their  beloved  ?  Catamount  and  Caleb  had  given 
up  the  pursuit  towards  the  confines  of  Canada, 
and  had  made  the  circle  of  the  lake  in  the  most 
faithful,  careful  search. 

At  the  end  of  the  fifth  day  of  Winnie's  ab- 
sence, Caleb  returned  for  the  second  time  to  the 
cabin  to  console  his  mother,  and  with  the  pos- 
sible hope  of  getting  some  tidings  of  the  lost, 
and,  if  not,  of  proceeding  again  to  Portsmouth 
to  ascertain  if  she  had  not  been  heard  of  there. 

Left  to  himself,  Catamount,  upon  whom  the 
long  effort  had  had  a  visible  effect,  still  prose- 
cuted the  search.  He  had  more  than  once 
ascended  the  heights  that  overlooked  the  lake, 
but  to  no  purpose.  He  had  not  gone  to  the 
summit  of  Red  Mountain,  though  he  had  trav- 
165 


166  THE    DISCOVERY. 

ersed  the  vicinity  of  it.  But,  faint  and  weary^ 
he  had  climbed  during  that  afternoon  to  its  top- 
most height,  and  set  himself  down  in  the  shelter 
of  a  shrub  that  protected  him  from  the  heat  of 
the  sun. 

He  sat  there  for  a  long  time,  for  he  needed 
rest.  And  as  he  sat  facing  the  beautiful  Winni- 
pesockee,  spread  out  to  his  unobstructed  view, 
he  ran  his  still  keen  eye  over  its  gleaming  sur- 
face from  island  to  island,  when  something 
caused  a  sudden  change  to  come  over  his  fea- 
tures. In  an  instant,  from  a  despondent,  hope- 
less, and  wearied  look,  an  expression  of  intense, 
eager  surprise  shot  from  his  eye,  and  every  fea- 
ture manifested  an  almost  startling  eagerness  — 
as  if  his  whole  soul  were  concentrated  in  that 
gaze.  The  next  moment  he  sprang  to  his  feet. 
The  vigor  and  elasticity  of  youth  seemed  at 
once  to  have  returned  to  him.  With  a  bound, 
he  shot  from  that  lofty  observatory  and  was  lost 
in  the  thick  forests  that  grew  at  a  distance 
below  the  summit. 

It  was  not  long  before  a  birchen  canoe  was 
skimming  the  lake  like  a  bird  in  its  flight,  but 
the  object  for  which  it  aimed  was  miles  distant. 


THE    DISCOVERY.  l6/ 

The  last  rays  of  the  setting  sun  had  already  shot 
up  from  the  west,  and  the  darkness  of  night 
settled  down  over  the  broad  expanse  of  water, 
and  yet  that  little  craft,  apparently  but  an  egg- 
shell on  its  surface,  swept  with  unflagging  speed 
on  its  way.  Winnie  had  just  arisen,  to  return 
to  her  apartment,  when  an  object  on  the  surface 
of  the  lake,  almost  at  her  feet,  attracted  her 
attention.  The  quick,  eager  eye  of  Catamount 
caught  sight  of  her. 

"  Forest  Flower ! "  in  a  voice  like  the  ripple 
on  the  water,  or  the  sigh  of  the  night  wind  in 
the  firs,  came  distinctly  to  her  ear.  Another, 
although  by  her  side,  would  not  have  heard  it. 
She  was  almost  ready  to  leap  to  the  water  below 
to  make  sure  of  escape,  but  that  was  not  neces- 
sary. The  strong  arm  of  Catamount  led  her 
gently  and  safely  down  a  steep,  narrow  passage 
in  the  rocky  side  of  the  island,  and  lifted  her 
into  the  canoe,  which,  in  another  moment,  shot 
away  as  it  had  come  —  as  noiseless  as  a  bird  upon 
the  wing  —  and  Winnie,  the  deeply-loved  Forest 
Flower,  was  saved  ! 

Landing  not  far  from  the  northwestern  base 
of  the  height,  now  known  as  Mt.  Belknap,  the 


1 68  THE    DISCOVERY. 

Indian  took  her  safely  down  the  steep  mountain 
wall  to  his  wigwam  just  as  the  daylight  broke 
in  the  east. 

Leaving  her  there  to  rest  in  peace  and  safety, 
he  hurried  down  the  Suncook,  and  shortly  after 
the  sun  arose,  he  heard,  clear  and  distinct,  the 
note  that  told  him  that  Caleb  had  returned  to 
the  cabin,  and  was  searching  for  him.  They 
hastened  toward  each  other  —  Caleb  to  know  if 
any  tidings  or  trace  of  Winnie  had  been  discov- 
ered, and  Catamount  to  tell  the  story  of  her  dis- 
covery and  rescue. 

Hurrying  back  to  the  wigwam  they  found  her 
still  asleep,  but  the  joy  of  Caleb  could  not  be 
restrained.  As  she  arose  he  held  her  in  his 
arms  in  a  loving  embrace ;  as  he  released  her, 
something  in  the  bosom  of  her  dress  attracted  * 
her  attention.  She  hastily  drew  it  forth,  and  as 
the  purse  which  Deerfoot  had  forced  upon  her, 
met  her  sight,  she  cast  it,  as  if  it  had  been  a 
viper,  upon  the  ground. 

Though  heavy,  it  had  lain  where  she  had 
placed  it,  to  please  him,  and  the  excitement  of 
the  escape  had  caused  it  to  be  forgotten  and 
unnoticed.  Caleb  took  it  up,  and  as  he  examined 


THE    DISCOVERY.  169 

its  contents,  exclaimed  :  "  Why,  sister  Winnie, 
you're  rich's  a  king.  This  ere's  all  gold  money. 
What  makes  ye  throw't  'way  that  way  ? " 

"  For  the  scorn  I  feel  for  him  who  compelled 
me  to  receive  it,"  she  replied  indignantly. 

After  a  little  further  talk  Winnie  was  eager  to 
return  to  the  cabin  to  receive  the  embrace  and 
blessing  of  her  mother,  but  as  they  were  pre- 
paring to  do  so,  Caleb  stopped  short. 

"  Look  a-here,  Winnie  dear,  'twon't  du  fer  ye 
tu  go  home,  cuz  them  fellers  wot  carried  ye  off 
afore  '11  be  arter  ye  ag'in." 

"  Words  of  Wudgee  "  —  meaning  Caleb  — 
"very  wise,"  said  Catamount. 

"  Stay  here,  Winnie ;  nobody'll  find  ye  here, 
and  we'll  tell  mother ;  and's  long's  ye're  safe, 
she'll  be  happy.  I'll  take  this  here  puss  o'  gold 
tu  Mr.  Williams  and  tell  him  how  ye  come  by  it. 
He  wanted  me  tu  bring  anything  we  might  find 
round  the  cabin,  and  he  may  have  a  use  for  this 
here,  tu.  If  them  villains  come  tu  the  cabin 
ag'in,  and  don't  find  ye,  p'raps  they'll  think  ye've 
jumped  intu  the  lake ;  so  we'll  tell  ma'am  tu  say 
ye  hain't  come  home,  ye  know." 

Caleb  showed  shrewdness  and  forethought  in 


I/O  THE    DISCOVERY. 

all  this,  and  it  proved  of  grave  importance  in 
the  end. 

"Catamount,"  said  Caleb,  as  they  were  both 
about  to  leave  the  wigwam,  "  you  need  rest ; 
you  stay  here  with  Winnie  till  I  come  back. 
You  'nd  she  nuther  hain't  eat  nothin'  to-day ; 
you  build  a  fire  'nd  she'll  du  the  cookin',  won't 
ye,  Winnie  ? " 

"  Yes,  indeed ;  yes,  Catamount,  stay  with  me 
here,  and  rest,  or  you'll  die  of  fatigue  and 
hunger." 

"Words  of  Forest  Flower  good,"  said  the 
Indian,  and  he  let  Caleb  depart  without  him.  It 
was  well  he  did,  for  the  tension  upon  his  physi- 
cal and  mental  endurance  had  been  great.  With 
difficulty  he  obtained  the  means  of  supplying 
the  food  for  the  meal  that  both  he  and  Winnie 
needed.  He  started  the  fire,  and  she  prepared 
the  food  and  cooked  it.  She  was  hungry,  and 
ate  heartily,  but  to  her  surprise  and  alarm,  Cata- 
mount could  eat  but  little. 

He  then  arranged  the  mats  of  fur  skins  for 
his  couch,  and  lay  down  and  slept  soundly  till  it 
began  to  grow  dark,  when  Winnie  awoke  him 
and  set  food  that  she  had  carefully  prepared,  be- 


THE    DISCOVERY.  I/I 

fore  him.  But  he  barely  tasted  it,  and  lay  down 
again.  In  the  morning  he  was  still  sleeping 
heavily,  and  Winnie  attempted  to  arouse  him, 
but  was  unsuccessful.  She  became  alarmed, 
yet  knew  not  what  to  do. 

A  little  before  sunset  Caleb  returned.  On 
learning  the  condition  of  Catamount  he  at- 
tempted to  arouse  him,  and  succeeded  in  par- 
tially doing  so.  He  languidly  opened  his  eyes. 
Winnie  too  was  by  his  side.  "  Smile  of  the  Great 
Spirit,"  he  said,  in  his  low,  and  not  unmusical 
voice,  as  he  looked  into  her  sweet  face. 

"  Catamount  come  to  the  end  of  the  trail  here. 
He  go  now  on  the  long  trail  to  the  happy  hunt- 
ing-grounds. He  know  the  way;  he  hear  the 
words  of  Great  Spirit  from  the  lips  of  Forest 
Flower.  All  light  now." 

"  O  Catamount !  "  said  Caleb,  in  an  anguish  of 
spirit,  "you  must  not  die.  Oh!  do  get  well, 
won't  ye? " 

"  Happy,"  was  the  last  word  that  he  spoke,  as 
a  placid  expression  succeeded  to  one  of  pain,  and 
the  spirit  of  the  last  Penacook  had  passed  from 
the  land  of  his  fathers. 

The  sorrow  of  the  two  young  people  as  the 


1/2  THE   DISCOVERY. 

full  consciousness  of  the  truth  that  he  was  really 
dead,  came  upon  them,  was  deep,  and  their  tears 
flowed  freely  as  they  recounted  his  many,  many 
deeds  of  love  to  them,  and  especially  of  the  last, 
which  resulted  in  the  rescue  of  Winnie,  the  effort 
to  accomplish  which  had  doubtless  been  the  im- 
mediate cause  of  his  death.  But  he  had  died 
happy,  with  the  two  he  loved  near  him,  and 
happy  that  the  lost  had  been  found  and  rescued. 
At  some  distance  from  his  wigwam  an  im- 
mense granite  bowlder  lay,  mostly  on  the  surface 
of  the  ground.  Here  Caleb  prepared  a  grave, 
and  the  two  placed  the  body  of  Catamount  in  it, 
with  his  bow  and  quiver  of  arrows  by  his  side, 
and  with  the  skins  of  his  wigwam  around  him. 
Then  covering  him  deeply  in  the  ground,  they 
left  him  to  his  rest. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

THE   TRIAL. 

IT  had  been  arranged  with  the  king's  attorney, 
that  Winnie  should  go  with  Caleb  to  the 
settlement  at  Epsom,  and  abide  in  the  Lock 
family  until  such  time  as  she  should  be  wanted 
in  the  court  which  was  to  be  held  for  the  prelim- 
inary examination  of  the  case  against  the  crimi- 
nals prior  to  their  full  commitment  to  await  the 
setting  of  the  Superior  Court.  This  was  antici- 
pated to  be  but  a  short  affair,  as  the  evidence 
against  those  charged  with  the  crime  was  so  clear 
and  positive.  The  only  cause  of  delay,  so  far  as 
everybody  but  the  king's  attorney  and  a  few 
others  knew,  was  the  absence  of  the  judge  before 
whom  the  case  was  to  be  examined  ;  but  the  real 
cause  was  far  otherwise. 

When  everything  was  prepared,  the  witnesses 

were  summoned,  and  the  parties    brought    into 

court.     The   owners   of   the  watch,  jewels   and 

other  things  found  at  the  cabin,  identified  them, 

173 


1/4  THE    TRIAL. 

and  Dugan  and  the  officer,  and  one  or  two  others, 
testified  to  these  having  been  found  in  the  cabin 
of  Than  Clifford.  Dugan  was  very  circumstan- 
tial in  giving  his  testimony,  being  particular  to 
say  the  watch  and  other  things  had  been  con- 
cealed by  Clifford,  whom  he  called  the  principal 
criminal  —  a  great  villain,  and  scoundrel,  and  the 
like. 

Dugan  was  the  last  witness  to  testify  against 
Clifford  and  Jim.  The  court  room  was  crowded, 
and  prominent  among  the  listeners  and  specta- 
tors, was  Deerfoot.  After  Dugan  had  finished, 
there  was  a  pause.  The  king's  attorney  seemed 
to  hesitate. 

"Mr.  Attorney,  are  you  through?"  asked  the 
judge.  "  Have  you  any  more  witnesses  ? " 

"I  have  one  more,"  he  replied.  There  was  a 
stir  in  the  crowd.  The  sheriff  of  the  province 
and  the  marshal  both  came  forward,  each  with 
an  attendant.  As  by  accident,  the  sheriff  stood 
beside  Deerfoot,  and  the  marshal  beside  Dugan. 

"Well,  Mr.  Attorney,"  said  the  judge,  "pro- 
ceed." 

Instantly  the  sheriff  put  his  hand  upon  Deer- 
foot. 


THE    TRIAL.  1/5 

"  You  are  my  prisoner,"  said  he,  and  before 
Deerfoot  fully  understood  what  was  being  said 
to  him,  he  was  in  irons,  while  the  marshal  had 
performed  the  same  office  upon  Dugan.  At  the 
same  time,  Dugan's  servant,  who  had  been  en- 
gaged with  him  in  finding  the  stolen  property  at 
the  cabin,  was  brought  in,  also  manacled. 

"This  is  the  witness/'  said  the  attorney,  "I 
next  call." 

It  had  been  a  bold  stroke  on  the  part  of  the 
king's  attorney,  but  he  was  confident  this  ser- 
vant could  be  frightened  into  turning  state's 
evidence.  He  had  been  summoned  as  a  witness, 
then  called  out  without  the  knowledge  of  Dugan, 
and  arrested  and  charged  with  having  himself 
carried  the  stolen  property  to  Clifford's  cabin. 
He  was  told  that  if  he  would  tell  the  truth  in  the 
transaction  he  should  be  unharmed.  He  at  once 
made  confession,  and  was  now  brought  into 
court. 

The  attorney  ordered  the  irons  removed,  and 
after  the  oath  was  administered,  said  to  him, 
"You  are  at  liberty  to  take  your  own  course." 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  this  watch  before  ?  " 

"Yes." 


THE    TRIAL. 


"Where?" 

"At  Than  Clifford's  cabin.'' 

"  Do  you  know  how  it  came  there  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"How?" 

"I  carried  it  there." 

"  How  came  you  by  it  ?  " 

"Dugan  handed  it  to  me." 

"  What  did  he  say  when  he  gave  it  to  you  ?  " 

"  I'm  going  to  lay  a  trap  for  that  villain,  Than 
Clifford,  and  pay  off  the  grudge  I've  had  against 
him  so  long." 

"  Do  you  know  where  he  got  it  ?  " 

"No." 

During  the  examination  Dugan  trembled  like 
a  leaf.  There  seemed  nothing  to  criminate 
Deerfoot,  and  he  very  coolly  asked  why  it  was 
he  was  under  arrest. 

"Can  you  account  for  the  manner  in  which 
that  purse  came  to  your  hands?"  asked  the 
attorney,  holding  up  the  one  he  had  given  Win- 
nie, and  which  she  had  cast  from  her  so  scorn- 
fully. 

"  I  know  nothing  about  it  whatever,"  he  re- 
plied. 


THE    TRIAL.  I// 

"Call  in  the  young  lady,"  said  the  attorney  to 
a  constable,  and  Wentworth  Hunking  entered, 
leading  Winnie. 

"What  is  this  witness's  name?"  asked  the 
judge. 

"  Winifred  Clifford/*  answered  the  attorney. 

"  Winifred  Longridge,"  shrieked  a  woman  of 
strange  look  and  appearance,  as,  regardless  of 
the  court  and  crowd  in  attendance,  she  rushed 
forward  and  seized  the  witness  in  her  arms. 
"Don't  you  know  your  long-lost  Lute?  I've 
been  studying  that  man's  face,"  she  cried,  "now 
I  know  him,"  pointing  to  Clifford.  "Didn't  I 
bring  this  girl,  when  a  baby,  to  your  cottage  on 
the  Jersey  shore  ?  Your  own  little  boy  was  sick. 
I  am  Lute,"  she  continued,  "  Uncle  Zeeb's  child, 
and  there  stands  the  man,"  pointing  to  Dugan, 
"that  stole  me  and  carried  me  to  the  pirate 
ship." 

"Woman,"  said  the  attorney,  going  to  Lute 
and  taking  her  kindly  by  the  arm,  "we  are  busy 
with  the  court  just  now.  You  shall  see  the 
young  lady,  and  this  affair  shall  be  cleared  up, 
but  let  us  proceed  with  the  matter  now  in  hand." 
She  yielded,  and  stood  aside. 


1/8  THE    TRIAL. 

The  appearance  of  Winnie  caused  the  face  of 
Deerfoot  to  blanch.  She  knew  too  much.  He 
at  once  saw  that  his  iniquity  must  come  to 
light.  One  of  Dugan's  own  servants  had  con- 
demned him  to  the  gallows,  and  others  of  them, 
with  what  Winnie  knew,  would  bring  him  to  the 
same  end. 

Deerfoot  had  accidentally  met  Lute,  who, 
after  being  for  years  the  wife  of  a  rover  of  the 
deep,  on  his  death  had  fallen  into  the  possession 
of  a  kind  master  in  Cuba,  and  from  her  he  had 
learned  the  singular  story  of  the  death  of  Mr. 
Longridge,  which  had  been  brought  about  by 
the  connivance  of  a  relative  with  a  pirate  for  the 
purpose  of  getting  possession  of  his  estate ; 
that  the  plan  was  to  destroy  the  life  of  his  child 
at  the  same  time,  but  that  she  had  been  saved 
by  her ;  that  the  child  would  have  been  thrown 
into  the  sea,  but  that  Lute  threatened  if  that 
was  done  to  throw  herself  in  also. 

It  was  then  agreed  by  the  pirates  who  had 
taken  the  life  of  Mr.  Longridge,  and  had  robbed 
and  then  burned  the  ship  he  had  taken  passage 
on,  that  the  child's  life  should  be  spared,  but 
that  it  should  be  carried  on  shore  and  abandoned 


THE    TRIAL.  1/9 

at  the  first  land  they  should  make,  and  that,  as 
near  as  Lute  could  learn,  had  been  the  coast  of 
New  Jersey,  where  the  child  had  been  left.  In 
one  way  and  another,  by  his  shrewdness  and 
skill,  aided  by  many  fortunate  accidents,  Deer- 
foot,  who  was  a  most  daring,  adroit  and  success- 
ful villain,  had  traced  out  and  actually  found  the 
lost  heiress  to  the  estate  of  Mr.  Longridge,  and 
all  he  needed  was  to  gain  her  heart  and  hand, 
and  Dugan  would  have  found  himself  beggared 
by  one  whom  he  took  to  be  his  only  friend. 

The  scheme  of  both  —  one  for  an  estate,  and 
the  other  for  revenge  —  had  failed,  and  their  feet 
had  been  caught  in  the  net  they  had  set  for 
others. 

Than  and  Jim  were  acquitted,  and  received 
the  hearty  congratulations  of  the  great  company 
present,  while  the  real  criminals  were  committed 
to  prison.  When  told  that  Jim  was  her  brother, 
Lute  was  beside  herself  with  joy. 

Deerfoot  was  accused  of  committing  murder 
in  Massachusetts,  after  robbing  a  man,  to  escape 
capture,  so  a  requisition  was  sent  from  the  au- 
thorities of  that  province,  and  he  was  delivered 
up  for  trial  there.  He  was  found  guilty,  and 


I  SO  THE    TRIAL. 

sentenced  to  be  hanged.  Dugan,  by  the  aid  of 
some  of  his  accomplices,  succeeded  in  escaping 
from  prison,  and  years  afterward  was  heard  of 
in  one  of  the  West  India  Islands,  leading  a  life 
as  miserable  as  the  wretch  deserved. 

When  all  these  strange  developments  had  con- 
cluded, and  the  inmates  of  the  cabin  returned  in 
peace  to  their  happy  home,  the  faith  of  Debby 
—  that  all  things  work  together  for  good  to  them 
that  love  God,  for  they  are  the  called  according 
to  the  promise — was  fully  sustained. 

The  mystery  that  surrounded  the  birth  of 
Winnie  was  made  plain,  but  she  did  not  cease  to 
be  their  darling  child.  To  Than  and  Debby  she 
was,  and  always  remained,  their  loving  daughter, 
even  after  she,  as  the  wife  of  Wentworth  Hunk- 
ing,  became  the  mistress  of  her  long-lost  patri- 
mony. The  memory  of  Catamount  was  cherished 
by  all,  and  the  family  mourned  sincerely  for  him 
to  whom  they  were  indebted  for  so  much  of  the 
happiness  of  their  after  life. 


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HESTER,  and  other  New  England  Stories.     A  story  for  adults.     £1.25. 

The  character  touches  are  strong  and  well-defined.  It  is  fresh  with  New 
England  atmosphere. 

TWO  MODERN  LITTLE  PRINCES,  and  other  Stories  for  young 
people.     £1.00. 
Full  of  exquisite  touches  of  humor  and  pathos,  and  cosey  home  life. 


BOOKS  FOR  GIRLS. 

HOLD  UP  YOUR  HEADS,  GIRLS !  By  ANNIE  H.  RYDER.  $1.00. 
One  of  the  brightest,  breeziest  books  for  girls  ever  written  ;  as  sweet  and 
wholesome  as  the  breath  of  clover  on  a  clear  June  morning,  and  as  full  of  life 
and  inspiration  as  a  trumpet  call.  The  writer,  a  popular  teacher,  speaks  of 
•what  she  knows,  and  has  put  her  own  magnetism  into  these  little  plain,  sensi- 
ble, earnest  talks,  and  the  girls  will  read  them  and  be  thrilled  by  them  as  by  a 
personal  presence. 

A  NEW  DEPARTURE  FOR  GIRLS.    By  MARGARET  SIDNEY. 

75  cents. 

In  this  bright  little  story,  we  see  what  may  be  really  done  in  the  way  of  self- 
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pride  to  deter  them  from  taking  up  the  homely  work  which  they  are  capable 
of  doing.  It  will  give  an  incentive  to  many  a  baffled,  discouraged  girl  who 
has  failed  from  trying  to  work  in  the  old  ruts. 
HOW  THEY  LEARNED  HOUSEWORK.  By  CHRISTINA 

GOODWIN.     75  cents. 

Four  merry  schoolgirls  during  vacation  time  are  inducted  into  the  mysteries 
of  chamber-work,  cooking,  washing,  ironing,  pntting  up  preserves  and  cutting 
and  making  underclothes,  all  under  the  careful  supervision  of  one  of  the  moth- 
ers. The  whole  thing  is  made  attractive  for  them  in  a  way  that  is  simply  cap- 
tivating, and  the  story  of  their  experiment  is  full  of  interest. 
A  GIRL'S  ROOM.  With  plans  and  designs  for  work  upstairs  and 

down,  and  entertainments  for  herself  and  friends.     By  SOME  FRIENDS  OF 

THE  GIRLS.     $1.00. 

This  dainty  volume  not  only  shows  girls  how  to  make  their  rooms  cosey  and 
attractive  at  small  trouble  and  expense,  but  also  how  to  pass  a  social  evening 
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CHRISTIE'S    CHRISTMAS.     By    PANSY.     i2mo,  fully  illustrated, 

$1.50. 

Christie  is  one  of  those  delightfully  life-like,  naive  and  interesting  charac- 
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every  reader  will  find  delight  and  profit. 

ANNA  MARIA'S  HOUSEKEEPING.    By  MRS.  S.  D.  POWER. 

i6mo,  extra  cloth,  $1.00. 

Articles  on  household  matters,  written  in  a  clear,  fascinating  style  out  of 
the  experience  of  a  writer  who  knows  whereof  she  speaks.  Every  girl  and 
young  housekeeper  should  own  a  copy. 

BRAVE  GIRLS.     By  MARY  HARTWELL  CATHERWOOD,  NORA  PERRY, 

MRS.  JOHN  SHERWOOD  and  others.     $1.50. 

Here  are  deeds  of  stirring  adventure  and  peril,  and  quiet  heroism  no  less 
brave,  to  incite  girls  to  be  faithful  and  fearless,  strong  and  true  to  the  right. 

NEW  EVERY  MORNING:    Selections  of  Reading's  for 

Girls.     By  ANNIE  H.  RY^ER.    $1.00. 

This  is  just  such  a  book  as  one  would  expect  from  the  popular  author  of 
"  Hold  up  your  Heads,  Girls !  "  and  will  be  no  less  a  favorite  The  selections 
are  all  choice  and  apprporiate,  and  will  be  eagerly  read  each  morning  by  the 
happy  owners. 


NEW  PUBLICATIONS. 


FARMING  FOR  BOYS.  What  they  have  done,  and  what 
others  may  do  in  the  cultivation  of  farm  and  garden. 
How  to  begin,  how  to  proceed,  and  what  to  aim  at.  By  the 
author  of  Ten  Acres  Enough.  Illustrated.  Boston  :  D. 
Lothrop  &  Co.  Price  $1.25.  This  excellent  work,  from 
the  pen  of  the  author  of  Ten  Acres  Enough,  will  he  warmly 
welcomed  by  boys  who  delight  in  country  work  as  well  as 
by  parents  who  would  like  to  see  their  sons  settle  down  to 
good  honest  labor  on  the  old  homestead  or  on  farms  of  their 
own.  The  author  endeavors  to  convince  boys  who  are  living 
in  the  country  that  their  future  prosperity  and  happi- 
ness will  be  best  promoted  by  remaining  where  they  are 
instead  of  flocking  to  the  city,  where  work  is  harder  and 
prospects  more  uncertain.  He  shows  them  the  advantages 
of  farm  life,  its  healthfulness,  its  freedom  from  temptation, 
and  the  sure  reward  it  brings  to  intelligently  directed 
industry.  He  appeals  to  fathers  who  have  boys  old  enough 
to  do  farm  work  to  arouse  an  interest  in  them,  by  giving 
them  gardens  or  patches  of  their  own  to  work  on  from  which 
they  can  realize  some  personal  benefit.  He  sa?  s  truly  that 
the  children  of  too  many  farmers  have  been  kept  as  mere 
drudges,  with  no  pains  taken  to  encourage  their  individual 
enterprise  by  showing  them  how  to  make  something  for 
themselves.  'Farmers'  boys  understand  early  that  the  mak- 
ing of  their  fortunes  rests  with  themselves.  If  they  have 
nothing  of  personal  interest  to  hold  them  to  their  homes 
beyond  the  natural  home  affections,  it  is  hard  to  keep  them 
there.  If  parents  would  afford  them  some  little  opportunity 
to  begin  to  lay  up  something  early,  they  would  soon  find 
farm  life  as  attractive  as  the  dreams  of  city  life.  The  book  is 
in  the  form  of  a  story,  and  will  be  read  by  those  for  whom 
it  is  intended  with  delight  and  profit. 

LITTLE  FOLKS'  EVERYDAY  BOOK.  Edited  by  Amanda 
B.  Harris.  Boston  :  D.  Lothrop  &  Co.  Price  $1.00.  This 
little  volume  prepared  upon  the  plan  of  the  birthday  books 
which  are  so  popular  nowadays,  is  destined  to  win  merit  and 
good  favor  wherever  it  goes.  Not  only  will  the  "little 
folks,"  for  whom  it  was  specially  designed,  find  pleasure  in 
turning  its  leaves,  but  the.  older  members  of  the  family  as 
well,  for  the  lines  are  from  pens  highly  prized.  It  contains 
a  picture,  a  verse  and  a  blank  for  every  day  of  the  year, 
together  with  twelve  full-page  pictures  in  color,  representing 
the  various  months  of  the  year,  designed  by  G.  F.  Barnes. 


NEW  PUBLICATIONS. 

THE  ONLY  WAY  OUT.  By  Mrs.  Jennie  Fowler  Wiki/ig. 
Illustrated.  Boston:  D.  Lothrop  &  Co.  Price  $1.50.  Tin 
rather  enigmatical  title  of  the  handsome  volume  before  us 
is  fully  explained  in  the  closing  chapter  of  the  story.  The 
author  endeavors  to  show  that  there  is  but  one  sure  way 
out  of  the  darkness  into  which  we  are  plunged  by  earthly 
crosses  and  trials,  and  that  is  an  earnest  faith  in  ana  reiJ 
ance  upon  Christ.  The  lesson  sought  to  be  conveyed  i1 
mainly  through  the  experience  of  Joseph  Graydon,  a  bright 
generous-hearted  young  merchant,  who  is  cursed  with  an 
appetite  for  liquor  so  strong  that  when  temptation  comes  he 
lias  no  power  to  resist  it.  Pledges,  promises  and  resolutions 
made  in  his  sober  moments  avail  nothing  when  attacked  by 
the  terrible  desire  for  drink.  In  all  his  struggles  with  the 
habit  which  is  steadily  working  his  ruin,  he  seeks  no  help 
outside  of  himself,  depending  only  upon  his  own  strength  <>f 
will  to  overcome  the  tempter.  He  falls  at  last,  a  victim  to 
his  weakness  and  blindness  in  refusing  to  look  for  aid 
whence  all  aid  comes.  Says  one  of  the  characters  in  com- 
menting upon  his  fate —  *'  They  may  talk  as  they  wilt,  it 
takes  a  solid  basis  of  rocky  conviction  to  hold  one  to  tins 
work  of  mastering  the  evil  that  is  rampant  in  the  world. 
You  may  pile  up  figures  and  facts,  pathos  and  argument, 
but  unless  God  touches  the  conscience  you  can't  depend 
upon  a  man  for  a  steady  pull  through  the  breakers.  Ail  re*d 
reformatory  power  is  vested  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.'* 

So  AS  BY  FIRE.  By  Margaret  Sidney.  III.  Boston :  D. 
Lothrop  <fe  Co.  Price  $1.25.  Anything  from  the  author  of 
"Five  Little  Peppers"  will  be  read  with  ^aiiemess  and  with 
the  certainty  beforehand  that  it  will  be  well  worth  reading. 
So  as  by  Fire  is  a  story  full  of  earnest  purpose.  The  lesson 
it  teaches  is  that  it,  is  only  through  great,  sorrow  and  tribula- 
tion that,  some  souls  are  purified;  that  the  trials  and  v<  xa- 
tior.s  and  disappointments  of  this  world,  if  rightly  accepted 
and  turned  to  use,  make  clean  the  heart  "  as  by  fire."  To 
impress  this  fact  strongly  upon  the  mind  of  tl*e  Kroer  is 
the  constant  aim  of  the  author.  It  is  not  a  child's  l.o<-k, 
although  some  of  the  more  entertaining  characters  iii  its 
p^ges  are  children.  Its  purpose  is  to  strengthen  ihnK«  \\li<j 
are  bowed  down  by  trouble,  and  to  inspire  them  with 
la  tke  final  reward  of  eons  taut  well  doing. 


NEW  PUBLICATIONS. 

THE  MOTHER'S  RECOKD  of  the  Physical,  Mental  and 
Moral  growth  of  her  Child  for  the  first  Fifteen  Years. 
Boston:  D.  Lothrop  &  Co.  Price  $1.00.  This  work  is  aa 
valuable  as  it  is  unique.  It  is  not  intended  for  the  recording 
of  minute  matters  connected  with  the  health  or  illnesses  of 
the  child,  but  is  a  simple  form  of  record  of  those  more  inter- 
esting and  entertaining  items  about  the  child  that,  as  the 
writer  herself  says  in  her  preface,  most  mothers  determine 
at  the  birth  of  the  child  to  set  down  for  future  reference. 
It  is  the  first  tooth,  the  first  word  uttered,  the  schools  at- 
tended, the  characteristic  traits,  the  mischievous  acts,  the 
journeys  and  visits,  the  accomplishments  and  prejudices, 
the  habits,  and  in  short,  every  thing  connected  with  the 
subject  that  a  fond  mother  would  like  to  remember  or  to 
have  her  child  remember  in  after  years.  The  writer  begins 
•with  a  reference  to  Dr.  Preyer's  work  on  "  Psychogenesis," 
which  she  considerately  defines  to  be  the  "  development  of 
the  soul,"  and  speaks  of  the  reference  in  Shakespeare's 
Cymbtline  to  the  subject  of  "heredity,"  but  we  assure  our 
readers  that,  she  drops  all  big  words  there  and  leaves  the 
rest  of  tlie  beautiful  volume  as  easy  reading  as  they  would 
wish.  When  the  blanks  in  such  a  book  have  been  filled  out, 
it  is  a  record  of  wonderful  iniere-t. 

THE  HAKIJISVILLE  YOUNG  LADIES'  BAND.  Mrs.  TTarry 
Harper's  Awakening.  By  Pansy.  111.  Boston  :  D.  Lothrop 
&  Co.  Price  $  .15  Two  of  Pansy's  brightest,  and  most 
telling  sketches,  and  practical  as  they  are  bright.  Pansy 
never  writes  without  a  special  end  in  view,  and  some  of 
her  short  stories  have  achieved  results  where  the  most 
powerful  sermons  would  have  failed.  The  first  of  these 
sketches  touches  upon  missions  and  mission  work,  and 
shows  how  neople  with  time  hanging  upon  their  hands 
may  busy  themselves  to  their  own  and  others'  profit.  The 
second  story  deals  with  the  same  general  subject  of  missions, 
but  in  another  way,  and  is  intended  to  illustrate  how  much 
may  be  accomplished  by  a  few  \vhen  backed  by  determined 
effort. 


NEW  PUBLICATIONS. 

SINNER  AND  SAINT  :  A  story  of  the  Woman's  Crusade  j 
by  A.A.Hopkins,  author  of  "John  Breinm:  His  Prison 
Bars,"  etc.  Boston  :  D,  Lothrop  &  Co.  Price  $1.25.  This 
is  a  notable  addition  to  temperance  literature  and  combines, 
in  style  and  treatment,  some  of  the  strongest  charac* 
teristics  of  that  unique  temperance  narrative,  with 
salient  features  peculiar  to  itself.  It  is  both  a  live, 
progressive,  radical  reform  story,  quite  abreast  with 
the  temperance  thought  of  to-day,  and  an  intense, 
absorbing  record  of  heart  experiences,  reading  as  if 
they  were  all  real.  In  its  delineation  of  scenes  md  inci- 
rrents  in  the  Woman's  Crusade,  it  traverses  a  field  rich  ir* 
suggestion,  in  feeling  and  in  fact,  and  hitherto  ignored  by 
the  novelist.  The  Crusade  marked  an  epoch  in  temperance 
activities,  and  Sinner  and  Saint  vividly  reflects  the  wonder- 
ful spirit  of  that  movement,  while  as  vividly  portraying  the 
strange  methods  and  the  remarkable  faith  that  gave  it  suc- 
cess. This  is  a  broader,  more  comprehensive  story  than  its 
predecessor  from  the  same  pen,  more  abundant  in  charac- 
ters, and  stronger  in  the  love  elements  which  these  contrib- 
ute. The  religious  tone  of  it  also,  is  more  decidedly 
pronounced.  Bay  Ian  (N"ew  York1?),  Worroin,  Ohio,  and  a 
Rocky  mountain  mining  camp,  form  the  locali.  Of  all 
these  Mr.  Hopkins  writes  like  one  familiar  with  his  ground, 
as  he  is  confessedly  familiar  with  the  different  phases  of 
temperance  endeavor  and  need.  "  To  the  women  who  work 
and  pray,  for  love's  dear  sake  and  home's,  that  fallen 
manhood  may  come  to  its  own  again,"  he  dedicates  his 
work.  It  should  win  the  early  perusal  of  all  that  noble 
army,  and  of  a  wide  circle  besides  —  of  all,  indeed,  who 
sympathize  with  human  weakness  and  admire  womanly 
strength. 

KINGS,  QUEENS  AND  BARBARIANS;  or,  Talks  about 
Seven  Historic  Ages.  By  Arthur  Gilman,  M.A.  New  Edi- 
tion, enlarged.  111.  Boston:  D.  Lothrop  &  Co.  Price  $1.00. 
This  handsome  little  volume,  prepared  for  young  readers,  is 
a  pleasant  condensation  of  the  main  facts  in  the  world's  his- 
tory from  the  time  of  the  Golden  Age  of  Greece,  which 
dates  back  to  five  hundred  years  before  Christ,  down  to  lha 
Golden  Ace  of  England,  or  the  time  of  the  Puritans.  The 
information  is  conveyed  in  the  form  of  a  family  dialogue,  in 
which  the  father  entertains  his  children  evening  after  eve- 
ning, in  a  series  of  talks,  taking  up  in  a  natural  way  one 
subject  after  another,  giving  just  enough  of  each  to  create 
an  appetite  among  the  young  listeners  to  know  more  about 
them  and  to  bring  the  various  volumes  of  history  in  the  fam- 
ily library  into  active  demand.  Young  readers  will  find  Ai 
»  delightful  volume. 


NEW  PUBLICATIONS. 


CHIPS  FROM  THE  WHITE  HOUSE.— 12  mo.  486  pp.  $1.50 

If  i uit  the  press  bays  of  it: 

In  this  handsome  volume  of  five  hundred  pages  have  been 
Brought  together  some  of  the  most  important  utterances  of 
Our  twenty  presidents,  carefully  selected  from  speeches  and 
Addresses,  public  documents  and  private  correspondence, 
i  A  touching  upon  a  large  varijty  of  subjects. —  Golden. 
.Rule,  Boston. 

'  Most  of  the  extracts  are  dated  and  accompanied  by  brief 
explanations  of  the  circumstances  under  which  they  were 
written,  and  the  volume,  therefore,  if  judiciously  read,  will 
give  a  clearer  idea  of  the  character  of  the  men  than  can  be 
gathered  elsewhere  by  reading  a  small  library  through.— 
New  York  Graphic. 

The  selections  are  made  with  judgment  and  taste,  and 
represent  not  only  the  political  status  of  the  distinguished 
writers,  but  ,lso  their  social  and  domestic  characteristics. 
The  book  is  interesting  in  itself,  and  specially  valuable  as 
a  convenient  book  of  reference  for  students  of  American 
history.  Its  mechanical  presentation  is  all  that  can  be 
asked. —  Providence  Journal. 

Each  chapter  is  prefaced  by  a  brief  synoposis  of  the  life 
and  services  of  its  subject,  and  most  of  the  extracts  are  dated, 
with  brief  explanations  of  the  circumstances  under  which 
they  were  written.  The  work,  in  fact,  is  a  handbook.  It 
is  convenient  for  reference  of  American  history.  It  is 
printed  in  clear,  large  type,  is  tastefully  and  strongly  bound, 
and  is  supplemented  by  a  very  full  index. —  Woman's  Jour* 
nal,  Boston. 

The  book  is  thoroughly  good ;  none  better  could  be 
placed  in  the  hands  of  young  persons.  By  the  light  of 
theje  they  can  see  the  reflection  of  the  character  of  tho 
grand  men  who  have  been  called  to  rule  over  the  Nation 
during  its  existence.  No  other  nation  ever  had  such  9 
Buccsssion  of  rulers,  where  so  few  h  ive  proved  failures.— 
faier  Oceav .  Chicaao. 


NEW  PUBLICATIONS. 

THE  LORD'S  PURSEBEARERS.  By  Hesba  Stretton. 
Boston.  D.  Lothrop  &  Co.  Price.  $1.25.  The  name  of 
Hesba  Stretton  is  too  well  known  in  English  literature 
to  render  it  necessary  to  make  special  commendation  of 
any  work  from  her  pen.  No  writer  of  religious  fiction 
stands  higher  in  England,  and  there  is  not  a  Sunday-school 
library  where  some  one  of  her  volumes  may  not  be  found. 
She  has  the  faculty  of  entertaining  and  instructing  at  the 
game  time.  The  present  publishers  have  made  special 
arrangements  with  her  for  the  production  in  this  country 
of  her  latest  work,  and  the  probabilities  are  that  all  her 
future  books  will  bear  their  imprint.  In  The  Lord's 
Purscbearers  the  author  draws  a  terrible  picture  of  life 
among  tne  vicious  poor  in  London  streets,  and  shows 
by  what  shifts  the  professional  beggars  and  thieves  of 
the  great  Babylon  manage  to  live  and  thrive  on  the  mis- 
placed charity  of  the  pitying  well-to-do  population.  She 
arouses  a  strong  feeling  of  sympathy  for  the  children  who 
are  bred  in  the  haunts  of  vice,  and  who  are  instructed 
in  crime  before  they  are  old  enough  to  know  the  meaning 
of  the  word.  The  story  is  one  of  intense  interest,  and 
the  characters,  especially  those  of  old  Isaac  Chippendell, 
his  granddaughter  Joan,  and  little  Lucky,  are  forcibly 
drawn.  One  can  hardly  believe  that  such  places  exist 
or  that  such  deeds  are  perpetrated  as  are  here  described, 
but  one  who  is  familiar  with  London  and  its  streets  knows 
that  tliey  are  no  exaggerations.  The  volume  is  illustrated. 


THE  AFTERGLOW  OF  EUROPEAN  TRAVEI*  By  Adelaide 
L.  Harrington.  Boston:  D.  Lothrop  &  Co.  Price  $1.50. 
This  pleasant  record  of  experiences  abroad  will  delight  those 
who  have  gone  over  the  same  ground,  as  well  as  those  who 
have  never  strayed  beyond  the  bounds  of  their  own  country. 
It  is  not  a  connected  story  of  travel,  but  consists  of  reminis- 
cences and  descriptions  of  various  spots  and  objects  which 
made  the  deepest  and  most  lasting  impression  upon  tbe 

MtftE. 


"Ideal  American  magazines!* 

It  is  a  fact  acknowledged  by 
the  English  press  that  American 
magazines,  by  enterprise,  able  edi- 
torship, and  liberal  expenditure  for 
the  finest  of  current  art  and  litera- 
ture, have  won  a  rank  far  in  ad- 
vance of  European  magazines. 

It  is  also  a  fact  that  for 
young  people 


WIDE  AWAKE 


Stands  foremost     } 


In  pleasitre- 
In  practical 


elping  I 


Each  year's  numbers  contain  a  thousand  guarto  pages,  covering  the  widest 
range  of  literature  of  interest  and  value  to  young  people,  from  such  authors  as 
John  G.  Whittier,  Charles  Egbert  Craddock,  Mrs.  A.  D.  T.  Whitney,  Susan 
Coolidge,  Edward  Everett  Hale,  Arthur  Gil  man,  Edwin  Arnold,  Rose 
King^ley,  Dinah  Mulock  Craik,  Margaret  Sidney,  Helen  Hunt  Jackson 
(H.  H.).  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe,  Elbridge  S.  Brooks  and  hundreds  of 
others;  and  half  a  thousand  ilhistrations  by  F.  H.  Lungren,  W.  T.  Smedley, 
Miss  L.  B.  Humphrey,  F.  S.  Church,  Mary  Hailock  Foote,  F.  Childe 
Hassam,  E.  H.  Garrett,  Hy.  Sandham  and  other  leading  American  artists. 
0.-VL.Y  $3.00  A  YEAR.  PROSPECTUS  FREE. 

WIDE  AWAKE  is  the  official  organ  of  the  C.  Y.  F.  R.  U.  The  Required 
Readings  are  also  issued  simultaneously  as  the  CHAUTMJQUA  YOUNG  FOLKS' 
JOURNAL,  with  additional  matter,  at  75  cents  a  year. 

For  the  younger  JBoyn  and  Oirln  o*r«l  the   Babies: 


Our     Little     Men 
and    Women, 

With     its     75     full-page 

Eictures  a  year,  and  num- 
erless    smaller,    and    its 
delightful     stories     and 
poems,  is  most  admirable 
for  the  youngest  readers. 
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Babyland 

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light to  the  babies  and 
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its  large  beautiful  pict- 
ures, its  merry  stories  and 
jingles,  in  large  type,  on 
heavy  paper. 

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The  Pansy, 

;*ed  by  the  famous 
author  of  the  "  Pansy 
Books,''  is  equally 
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reading.  Always  contains 
a  serial  by  '*  Pansy." 


end  for  specimen  copies  %  circulars,  etc.  ,  to  the  Publishers- 

D.  LOTHROP  &  CO.,  BOSTON,  MASS.,  IJ.  S.  A. 


Little  Folks'  Every  Day  BooL 

KYHMES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS  FOR  EVERY  DAY. 

MAY   i8T*t. 


A  song  of  a  nesc :  — 
There  was  once  a  nest  in  a  hollow ; 
Down  in  the  mosses  and  knot-grass  pressed 
Soft  and  warm,  and  full  to  the  brim: 


MAY    IQTH. 

"  Good  night ! "  said  the  hen,  when  h» 

supper  was  done, 
To  Fanny  who  stood  in  the  door, 
"  Good  night,"  answered  she,  "  come  back 

in  the  morn, 
And  you  and  your  chicks  shall  have  more." 


MAY    20TH. 

There's  a  merry  brown  thrush  sitting  up 

in  the  tree, 
"  He's  singing  to  me !    He's  singing  to 

me  !" 

And  what  does  he  say,  little  girl,  little  boy  ? 
**  Oh,  the  world's  running  over  with  joy  " 

Edited  by  AMANDA  B.  HARRIS. 

TWELVE  COLOR    DESIGNS    EMBLEMATIC    OF   THE  MONTHS i 

By  GEORGE  F.  BARNES. 
Sctuare  i8mo,  tinted  edges,  JSi.oo. 

KXIJOTHROP  &  CO.,  Publishers,  30  and  32  Franklin  SU 


YB  74266 


M111798 


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